


The Last Part

by PrintDust



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Character Study, Flashbacks, Prison, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrintDust/pseuds/PrintDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after their journey in "The Beginning with you", Daryl and Judith make their way in the world. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This story follows the events of my previous piece, "The Beginning With You".  
_______________________________________________________________________________

The spongy forest floor gave way under his boots, squishing with each step he took. He kept his eyes trained on the mossy woods around him as he searched for any movement in the gaps between the trees. The undergrowth had crept up over the trails and around each other, creating knots of plants and vines that caught their feet, tripping them up. Each time she would stumble he would reach out to grab the handle on her pack, holding her upright.

"Winter's comin'," she said, blue eyes sweeping up to look at him from beneath brown straggly bangs, repeating the phrase that he had said many time to her over the last few days. "I hope it don't snow 'gain."

He grunted in reply and kept moving, the weight of his own pack pulling on his shoulders. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and the darkness pushed back against the light until the forest around them faded from green, to gold, and then into dark blue. Soon the night would come and it would swallow everything, leaving them blind. Daryl's thoughts turned to food again - as they often did, and he wondered what they would do if they didn't come across something soon.

The Walkers had eaten their way across the land, like locusts, consuming everything and leaving devastation in their wake. It had been days since they'd had a squirrel, and weeks since they'd had anything else. They'd have to dig into the smoked salmon and canned apples they'd been saving since the last town they'd passed through more than a month before. His mouth watered at the idea and he looked down at the girl plodding along at his side, her mouth set in a determined line.

"What'ch'a thinkin'? Daryl asked her, picking a twig out of her long brown hair.

Judith looked up at him again, craning her head way back. One of her arms hugged the soft cloth doll that he'd given her when she was still a baby. "Them apples," she answered, scrunching her freckled nose. As best as he could guess, she would be about four-years-old now.

"Hungry?" He asked, coming to stop.

Judith stopped too, immediately. "Yeah," she sighed. Her eyes moved down to look at her feet. He looked down too, his eyes settling on her pink boots. The laces had come loose and he frowned at the sight of the toes. The leather had been scratched and worn away and the inside had torn away from the soles. His weren't in much better shape. They would have to replace them before the rain and snow came or they wouldn't survive the winter.

Daryl looked around the clearing that they had found themselves it. "Best we stop for the night anyway," he muttered, picking two trees where he would secure the hammock. He'd tie it up high to keep them out of the reach of any Walkers who might stumble through their camp in the middle of the night.

While he inspected the area, Judith had begun collecting dry wood, her arms stacked high. "You don't go far, y'hear." He watched her curiously as she carefully laid down the pile on an apron of moss. She crouched down and then lunged forward into the underbrush.

"Daryl!" She squealed, and he was in the right mind to shush her before she straightened up, holding a squirming snowy rabbit by its ears. "Look," she giggled, bounding over to him, her face lit up with joy.

"Good catch," he praised, reaching out to take the rabbit.

Judith pouted and held it away, twisting her upper body to keep it out of his reach. "I wanna do it."

"Well, alright then," he pushed his pack off his shoulders and let it drop to the ground with a heavy thud. "Get on with it then."

Judith grinned and secured the rabbit to her chest with one arm. She used her other hand to unclip the small knife on her belt. The blade clicked open with the flick of a small switch and her tongue darted out as she concentrated.

Daryl's arms jerked out to help, in case she lost her grip on the rabbit, but he held them back. He watched as she fumbled to get a comfortable hold on the creature before she drove the knife into its throat. She pulled the blade towards her, severing the rabbit's throat in a jagged movement. As soon as it had stopped struggling, she held it out to let the blood to flow heavily down its stomach. The snowy fur soaked up the blood until it was too thick and soggy to hold anymore, then it dripped onto the ground at her feet.

She looked up at him and he nodded in approval, accepting the dead animal.

"Get that fire wood, Jude," he nodded back to the abandoned pile and walked away to clean the carcass.

"We's gonna eat real good t'night!" Judith sang, skipping towards the wood that she had collected.

Later that night, the fire popped and sizzled in the pit below them, its embers picked up and tossed into the night air by the cool wind that whipped through the trees. He lay on his back on the hammock that he had created out of a camping tarp and sleeping bag. The warm cotton and crinkly plastic was enough to keep them warm and dry for now.

The little girl on his chest shifted and let out a sweet sigh. Her four-year-old hand flexed and reached up to grasp the collar on his hunting jacket.

He looked down to find her blue eyes peering up at him. Her cherub cheek was highlighted by the glow of the fire below them and her little brow furrowed. "Daryl?" She asked, her lower lip sticking out.

"Should be sleepin'," he told her firmly.

"I can't," she whined softly, while still laying her head down obediently. Her cheek settled like a cushion over his heart. "Tell me 'bout 'em 'gain."

Daryl huffed.

Damn same thing every damn night with her…

He reached out to lay his palm over her seashell ear and he used his thumb to stroke her baby-soft hair. She closed her eyes again, listening. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist his Little Ass-Kicker.

"Well," he said, closing his own eyes. "Your Mama were a pain in the ass. Always had somethin' to say 'bout everythin'… but she loved you. She gave up her life for ya'… And your big brother, Carl…" he opened his eyes to look down at the little girl. "He was a pussy at first. Always whinin', a real pain in the ass, too; wanderin' off and causin' shit all the time. But he grew up and he was kinda decent. Saved your life y'know, a million times."

The fire popped again and one of the logs shifted, its base crumbling into ash. Judith stiffened against him and he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her closer. "And your daddy," Daryl sighed. "He was a good man, Jude. You're lucky to come from his stock."

Daryl pressed a kiss to the thick mop of brown hair that had grown half-way down her back. He'd tried to cut it a few times, but she'd thrown a fit about that since he had told her it was just like her mama's.

Judith's breaths became slow deep wisps against his neck and he looked straight up at the canopy of barren branches above them, his mind drifting into the past.

XXXX

Chaos, the word came to mind as he fought hand to hand with the men from Woodbury. They'd come onto the prison like soldiers in one of them old stories that he'd learned 'bout in school. Guns blazin' they'd taken the yard easily, cornerin' their own group and drivin' 'em back into the prison. Hershel'd gone down fast, not quick 'nough to escape the first spray of the bullets.

Carol'd been next as she'd crouched over the baby, her thin body takin' shot after shot until it'd given out in a bloody shriek of agony. Daryl'd watched it happen from his perch, his crossbow braced against his shoulder as he fired arrows easily through the air. He'd moved quickly then, leaping over the railing like some damn gymnast or somethin'. He'd reached the baby first, assured by Michonne that she would cover him.

The six-month-old baby'd been sprayed somethin' awful with blood and he'd picked her up, still wrapped in her mama's pink blanket. Michonne had kept her word as he ducked out of the cell, the baby tight against his chest, shrieking. Rick and Carl moved ahead of him with Maggie and Glenn as they fled for the back door.

"Run!" Carl barked, shoving Daryl passed him. "We'll cover you."

Daryl looked to Rick next who nodded. "Keep her safe. We'll meet you back on the highway, where we stopped that first day that we found this place."

Without looking back Daryl held the bundle of blankets and baby to his chest and fled.

Rick and Carl had never shown up to meet him. He had waited for hours, and then checked in everyday for god knew how long. Eventually he had been forced to move on as their supplies dwindled. The prison had become overrun again by Walkers and the Governor's men and the closest town had been picked clean by Woodbury.

"Soon we'll find 'em?" Judith asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized she was still awake.

Daryl looked down at her. "Go to sleep," he ordered firmly, running his hand up and down her back.

She scrunched her face and then nodded burying her nose into the centre of his chest. "G'night, Daryl," she whispered.

XXXX

The grass was crunchy and prickly against his skin, dry enough that it poked him like needles through fabric of the thin prison issued sheet that they were laying on. They hadn't had a drop of rain all summer and the brown punished grass had taken the brunt of it. The pink naked baby lay on her back, her chubby hands reaching jerkily for the soft cloth doll he was teasing her with.

She'd started to smile and giggle a couple of weeks ago, showing off a pink tongue and toothless gums as she squealed with delight, her blue eyes sparkling. Lying on his side, Daryl shook the doll and pulled it away from her grasping hands, chuckling softly as she shrieked loudly. "Shhhh," he tapped her button nose. "Don't want the Walkers to come in n' eat us."

The baby babbled nonsense to both him and the doll and Daryl watched her long black lashes brush like butterfly wings on her cheeks. He liked these moments when everyone else was busy or tied up and he had a good reason to offer to take the baby for a while.

"Even if they did," he tossed the doll onto the blanket and used his now free hand to tickle her chin. "Your uncle Daryl wouldn't let 'em getcha…" He smiled as she flailed, giggling at the contact. "That's right," he cooed, taking a second to sweep the yard to make sure no one was listening. "I'd kill anyone who tried to hurt ya."

XXXX

Wisps of white drifted around them, clinging to their eyelashes and the rough bark of the sturdy oaks that grew densely in this part of the woods. Judith buried her red-tipped nose into the soiled dress of her doll as she trudged on beside him. She'd slipped her small hand into his larger one and he could feel her fingers through the woven pink wool of her mittens.

"My foots'es sure is wet," she told him, stepping over a large log. Her pants were wet too, from when she'd lost her balance and ended up face first in the snow.

Daryl grunted, looking around the snowy woods. He hoped the last of it had fallen for a while. It would help him with his hunting, at least. His eyes settled on the dainty thin tracks of a deer a few feet away. It looked to be a small one, based on the distance between steps. Disappointment settled over him; winter had come early if the deer were still fawns. They wouldn't be able to track or hunt them if they weren't full grown yet, or else they wouldn't be able to breed.

"Thinkin' 'bout them apples 'gain," Judith whispered, turning her face up to peer at him. She breathed out a long breath of air that settled in the air before her and then slowly faded. Her mouth twisted into a smile and she blew out again before giggling. "Daryl! Like that story!" She squealed.

"Keep it down," he scolded.

The little girl released his hand and cupped both of hers around her mouth. She flung her head back in one swift motion and breathed out. "What were its name 'gain?" She asked.

"A train," Daryl told her, thinking back to the little cabin that they'd stayed almost a month in the spring. She wore the butterfly backpack that they'd found there, along with the mittens and scarf. He'd made her leave the books and toys behind, despite her sulking and tears. They had enough to burden their backs with without shouldering useless things like that.

"A train," she repeated the word, her daddy's eyes closing with joy. "Wassa a train sound like?" She asked, skipping a few feet ahead of him. She crouched down and picked up some snow in her cupped hands and buried her face into her palms. Judith started to eat the snow and he wondered for a moment when was the last time they'd stopped for water.

"Like a train," he huffed, stopping to wait for her. He crouched down beside her and pushed the hair back from her face that had gotten caught up in her mouth. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes turned upwards as she thought for a moment. Daryl sighed, "Chugga chugga, chugga chugga, woo woo."

The four-year-old's face lit up and she dropped the snow. She closed her hands around her mouth again to blow steam. Tiny snowflakes clung to the fibers on her mittens and she grinned up at him, showing off her pearly baby teeth.

Daryl hid his smile and pushed himself into a standing position. He twisted his hand around the loose fabric of her coat at the back of her neck. Bunching it up, he used it at a handle and hauled up onto her feet. "Get goin' caboose," he ordered softly.

"Wass'a boose?" She asked, twisting her head around to look at him over her shoulder.

"The ass end o' a train," he answered, placing his hands over her ears and turning her face around so she could see where she was going.

Eventually the trees thinned out, then the tree line broke altogether and they found themselves standing at the edge of a large field. The land had been burned clear through, leaving nothing but scorched grass and earth, partially blanketed by the snow. Daryl's eyes followed the damage to the east where the trees were scarred and grey, lost in the contrast of the snow, jutting from the ground like porous stone.

Straight ahead there lay a small farmhouse, like a smudge against the navy sky. They picked their way across the cauterized ground towards it, passing a blackened tractor on the way. What remained of the house was charcoal and dusty ash. Daryl led the little girl by her hand around the ruin to find a small metal tool shed several paces away. The red paint on the side closest to the house had cracked and peeled with the heat of the fire, but the small building itself remained intact.

The door groaned on long-since used hinges, but gave way to them and they stepped inside onto the plywood floor. "We'll stay here," he told Judith, leaving her in the doorway as he stepped around her to inspect the tiny space. A small vented wood-fired boiler sat in one corner, grated for welding. Judith closed the door behind her and stepped inside, shivering. "Take off your clothes," he told her, removing the equipment from the iron hooks that had been welded to the walls. He tested them and found that they were sturdy enough for their purposes. He could hear her clothes rustling behind him and he made quick work of hanging their hammock diagonally across the room.

Daryl dug out the towel out of her bag and turned to her then crouched down. He made quick dried off her damp skin and then helped her dress into a dry set of clothes. Her arms automatically closed around his neck when he lifted her, then deposited her on the bed. He pulled the sleeping bag over her and tucked her in before stepping outside.

Most of the wood closest to them was burned or soggy from the snow. He decided that he would have to break up the workbench inside the shed and use it for firewood. He turned to head back in, and then paused, his eyes sweeping the charcoal farm. The clouds were heavy and hanging low in the sky, dark and pregnant - impenetrable by the sun.

God, if you're there… You'll hold off the snow.

He scoffed and stomped back inside, closing the door behind him.

Judith, still bundled up in the hammock, watched him silently. He broke up the bench easily and started a fire in the little stove. He put both their boots close to the elements and then opened the door again, two metal buckets in hand. The sky had let go and it was snowing heavily. Long streaks of white fell so thickly that he could barely see the woods in the distance.

He placed one bucket on the ground to fill up and swept the snow off the roof into the other. When he was satisfied that they had enough he stepped back inside and placed it on the grill.

Judith had gone to sleep, her breathing soft and even in the warm room. Daryl changed quickly and hung their clothes. The little girl barely opened her eyes as he climbed into the hammock with her. Her ragdoll arm flung across him while the rest of her body stayed tucked into the spot between him and the plastic side of the hammock.

By the time she woke the next morning he had already managed to get them a large crow. He'd roasted it over the fire, filling the room with the smell of cooking meat.

She sat up in bed, her closed fists rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Daryl placed some newsprint on her lap, a small pile of steaming bird in the middle. Next he handed her a little cup of the canned apples. She accepted the cup without a word and began eating without taking her eyes off of her food.

"Sure are quiet," he commented, sitting down on the floor next to the wreckage that used to be the workbench. He glanced up at her to see her shrug and keep eating. He decided to leave her be and he picked up the roll of duct tape that he had found the night before. Their boots had dried overnight and he used the tape to seal them off, wrapping the silver strip around them over and over again.

XXXX

Daryl stared into the eyes of the Walker that clawed at the other side of the chain-link fence, its grey fingers dripping with puss and black oily blood. It has been a woman at one time; her long blonde hair gave her away, though it had become caked with dirt and now hung in clumps of tangled knots. She snarled, snowing off blackened gums and gaping holes where teeth had rotted away. Her milky eyes watched him with blind hunger as she sniffed and snarled.

"Daryl," Rick's voice called over his shoulder in greeting.

Flicking his eyes away from the Walker's, Daryl raised the pipe in his hand and popped it through the bridge of her nose, crushing her skull like a melon. She went down instantly, the dead weight of the corpse sliding it down off his pipe.

"Figured if we take out at least ten a day each, 'ventually…" he trailed off with a grunt as he slipped his hunting knife up under the chin of the next closest Walker. With a final thrust it met brain tissue.

"Sounds like as good a plan as any," Rick agreed, resting his hands on his utility belt. He tipped his head towards Carol and Carl who were collecting water from the creek on the other side of the yard. "Been quiet around here," the ex-deputy commented. "Makes me uneasy, like we're waiting for something to happen."

"Or it's just quiet," Daryl turned towards the other man, letting the pipe in his hand drop to rest against his leg.

"Maybe," Rick nodded. "But if something is coming… I need to know that Carl and Judith will be protected." His blue eyes swept beyond the fence, towards the creek, up over the hill, towards the trees.

Daryl kept quiet, not sure exactly what he was asking. When Rick didn't say anything more, he was forced to ask. "What're you sayin'?"

"I'm asking you to do whatever you have to do to protect them," Rick released his hold on his gun and raised it to rest on Daryl's shoulder. "And I ain't just asking you. I'm asking all of you… if things go south, whoever is left standing, please," he swallowed and cleared his throat. "I couldn't take it if I knew the last little part of Lori was gone from this world… that the last part…"

Daryl raised his arm, in part to wipe the sweat off his forehead and out of his eyes, and in part to break free of Rick's hold.

"Will you do that?"

Daryl turned his back on the other man and lined up his weapon with another Walker's forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

It had started as a little sniffle and a scratchy throat. Now, two days later it had turned into a barking cough that rattled her chest each time her breath snagged in her lungs. He'd wanted to stay in the tool shed longer, where she would be warm, but they'd been caught off guard by a herd of Walkers moving through the area. The staggering group had appeared as specks in the distance, one or two at first, but they had kept coming, swelling to numbers almost large enough to fill the tree line.

Daryl and Judith had packed quickly, tossing their things into their packs. They'd ducked around the back of the shed and run in the opposite of the herd's projected direction. The woods had provided some protection and they ran until Daryl was confident that the Walkers had not seen them. When they finally stopped, panting next to a towering oak, he stopped to look at the little girl. The colour had drained from her face and she clutched her doll tighter as she leaned against the trunk.

"C'mon," he took her hand in his and started walking again, pulling her along behind him. As they walked, her fevered forehead slowly came to rest against the inside wrist.

She didn't complain the entire afternoon as they travelled, hand-in-hand, though her weary body slowed until she was barely lifting her legs high enough to clear the snow. They followed the scarred trees until they reached the highway where Daryl paused in recognition. His eyes darted around until they settled on the bronze car where they had left supplies and a message for Sophia all those years before. The white chalked writing had long since melted and disappeared and the food had been taken as well. Daryl stared at the spot where not a trace of their search for the lost little girl remained.

Turning to the side he stooped low and picked Judith up. He settled her on his side and pulled her closer until her face was buried into his neck. She coughed miserably again, but her breathing quickly evened out and she went slack against him, one arm draped loosing around his shoulders while the other hung limply across his chest.

The farm came into view and he looked around for any signs of the Walkers who had taken it. The fences that had once held cattle had rotted and fallen away and the barn was nothing but a heap of charred, decaying wood. The scorched ground stretched out in the direction from which they had come and he realized that the fire had spread clear across several properties.

The Winnebago was an unrecognizable piled of metal and fiberglass, twisted and distorted with the heat of the flames.

The door to the house had been forced open and it was clear that someone had been camping out. The place had been ransacked for supplies and apparently anything useful. Daryl hoped that they would be long gone. The sleeping child had grown heavy in his arms and he moved toward the living room to put her down, but froze in the doorway.

A long arc of blood streaked across the wall and the fireplace, aged and dried into a rusty colour. What was left of the corpse of a decaying on man lay splayed across the floor, a shotgun barrel still resting against the blown away roof of his mouth, his teeth broken and jagged against the metal.

Daryl turned away from the mess and headed up the creaky old stairs towards Hershel's old room. If they were lucky the roof and fireplace would be intact enough for them to get a decent night's sleep. The house felt odd and almost haunted as he made his way through it to the room. The walls ached with the ghosts of those who they had lost in this place, raising goosebumps on Daryl's arms and legs.

He pushed his way into Hershel's room and laid Judith on the bed, careful to guide her head onto the pillow slowly. She turned over, her back to him, not seeming to notice the water stained and dusty state of the pillow. Her body curled into a fetal position and her thumb found its way into her mouth, a habit that she had only managed to curb while she was awake.

Daryl pushed off his pack and got to work while she slept.

The water, straight from the fire, steamed as he poured it into the tub in the bathroom. Judith had been sleeping for hours and he had used the time to tidy up and collect any supplies that had been left. Whoever had come through the house had picked it clean, even taking the food that Hershel had stored in the cold room in the basement. Daryl had been surprised to see the room emptied, considering that the door was tucked into the stone wall almost completely hidden by the furnace. Desperation made people do amazing things sometimes, though.

Turning his attention back to the present, Daryl dipped his fingertips into the water to test the temperature. Satisfied that it would be fine once the final pot boiled, he stepped back into the bedroom. The steam from the boiling water had helped to ease the congestion in the sleeping girl's chest. Daryl made his way over to her and prodded her awake by pushing her damp hair off her warm forehead.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he helped her sit up and pulled her shirt over her head. She watched him from beneath heavy eyelids as he undressed her and then carried her into the bathroom wrapped up in the blanket from the bed.

"Bath?" She asked, gripping the porcelain side of the tub as he lowered her into it. She almost smiled, but her expression quickly turned into a frown again.

After seeing that she was settled, Daryl quickly went back into the room and got the final pot of water. As he passed the toilet, he paused and looked at the shelf above it. Reaching up his fingers traced the label on one of the items there. Decidedly, he picked up the dusty bottle and went over to where she was sitting, watching him. He offered her a small smile, which she didn't return, and then flicked open the cap on the bottle with his thumb.

Judith eyed him suspiciously as he poured some of the blue liquid into the bath. "Wassat?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

"Magic," he told her, putting the bottle on the side of the tub. Holding the pot up high, he tipped it over let the water splash at her feet. The waterfall started to foam and create bubbles. He looked up to find the sick child still frowning.

"S'not magic," she pouted. "S'just bubbles."

Daryl sighed and reached out to lay the back of his hand on her forehead, cheek, and then the base of her neck. He frowned too at the heat he found there.

XXXX

It had been months since the prison had fallen and Daryl had been forced to flee on his own with the baby. He'd hugged the outskirts of the woods, moving from house to house and hoping that he would eventually run into someone from the group. The seasons had eased into the winter so he'd had plenty of time to prepare by gathering supplies and figuring out the migration patterns of the herds of Walkers in the area. Eventually they had settled in a small apartment above a gas station where the windows had already been barred off.

He'd spend the days hunting in the woods, the baby strapped to a chest in the sling he had made using a bed sheet. She'd grown bigger and heavier over the months and she could sit up now if he pulled her into the position. They'd gone back to the daycare to collect more diapers, but the formula had been cleaned out already, so he fed her boiled broth and vegetables from cans.

Today he was hoping that he would find something larger that he could dry out and package up for rations when they moved on. He hadn't had any luck in finding anything though, because the baby wouldn't quiet down. Sighing, he pulled back the sling to peer in at the red-faced infant who hadn't stopped crying all morning. He'd tried everything: food, diaper, rocking her… he'd even sang her a goddamn song and she still hadn't let up.

After sticking his knife back into his belt, Daryl untied the knock at the base of his neck and slipped his hands under the baby's arms. He held her out to look her over; she seemed perfectly fine. Which meant she was crying for No. Fucking. Reason.

"You don't stop cryin' and we'll starve," he reasoned. When she didn't quiet he looked around the woods. She was probably attracting every damn Walker for miles. He looked back at Judith, her head thrown back as she bellowed and her tight fists trembling and he felt anger and frustration rise in his chest. He resisted the urge to give her a shake, but his grip tightened as his fingers twisted around the sheet.

"Fine," he barked. "You wanna starve, tha's just fine!" Bending over, he deposited her on the frosty ground and turned his back on her. He stalked away, kicking a pile of leaves out of his way, his muscles worked up into tight knots in his neck and arms. The sound of her crying faded as did his own rage as he picked his way over the forest terrain. Away from her. By the time he'd reached a fork in the path, about twenty feet away, his steps faltered and he paused. Taking a deep breath, he rolled and cracked his neck, relieving the tension that had built up there.

Slowly, he turned around to look at the baby, sitting on the ground, her bare legs crossed over in front of her and her eyes screwed shut as she wailed at the canopy of trees above her. He looked closer and he could make out the trembling of her tiny limbs and his heart twisted painfully, catching him off guard.

Quickly, he made his way back over to her until they were standing toe to toe, his muddy worn boots touching her tiny bare feet. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him through thick glassy tears, her chest shuddering with each sob that escaped her.

Leaning down, he scooped her up and held her to his chest, fixing the sheet so that it covered her bare legs. Slowly he started to sway his upper body, rocking her back and forth. Using one hand he picked the bark and twigs out of her hair and off her blanket.

"Shhhhhh."

Her cries quieted into hiccups at the motion and her rigid body relaxed until her head came to rest on his chest. "I ain't goin' nowhere," he promised, rubbing her back in slow circles. "… just please shut the fuck up."

XXXX

Daryl spent the next few days picking through the rubble and mess inside the house to find whatever was useful. He'd managed to find some of the medical supplies that the group had left behind: some bandages, gauze, and tape. There had been some food in the kitchen too, enough to keep them comfortable for a few days while Judith recovered.

At night he dreamed that the others had come back and that he didn't have to shoulder the burden of caring for Judith on his own anymore. It seemed like he'd forgotten what they looked like because they always came back as faceless fluttering ghosts in his periphery. "Daryl!" Judith would scream, bouncing at his side, one of her tiny hands holding his while the other pointed off to somewhere he couldn't see. But he knew they were there…

He slept fitfully in the antique chair in the corner of the room, his legs propped up on a tipped over plastic container. The contents had been emptied and strewn around the room.

"Daryl!" Her voice called out to him and she shifted in the chair. When his name came again his eyes snapped open and he looked across the room to find Judith sitting up in bed, hot tears sliding down her cheeks as she cried. He shot to his feet and rushed over to her side.

"What is it?" He asked, reaching out to rest his hand on her slender shoulder.

Judith held her doll out with both hands clutching its squishy sides. She was still crying and breathing rapidly.

Daryl squinted at the doll in the darkness, barely able to make it out in the dim firelight. His eyes swept its raggedy brown wool hair and his soiled apple printed dress, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Reaching out he rested the back of his fingertips on her forehead; she was still running a temperature. "Get back to sleep, was just a dream."

Judith shook her head, her brown hair flicking at the movement. "Beanie ain't got no eyes," her lower lip trembled and she held the doll out closer to him. "Can't see nothin' if Beanie ain't got no eyes."

Taking the doll from her outstretched arms, he held it closer so he could see its face more clearly. Sure enough the black dots that had once been painted on were faded away. "It's just a doll," he told her. "She don't need eyes." He tossed the doll back onto her lap and got up to leave. He was stopped by a tiny hand closing around his index finger.

"If she ain't go no eyes they'll get her and eat her up," she told him, her glassy eyes shimmering in the flames of the fire.

Daryl huffed and took the doll from her again. Moving across the room he dug through the pile of things he had collected from downstairs and picked up a black marker. He could barely see what he was doing in the dark bedroom as he uncapped it and drew two small circles on either side of "Beanie's" raised nose. He jammed the marker back into its cap and stalked back over to the bed where he found that Judith had fallen asleep, her thumb jammed into her mouth.

Sighing, he lifted her arm and tucked the doll back into place. He paused, watching her chest rise and fall as she slept, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

They stayed at the house for almost two weeks according to the rudimentary calendar that Daryl kept in his head. Before long, Judith was back to her usual inquisitive and bouncing self. She went on hunts with him again and explored the closet in Beth and Maggie's old rooms.

On their final days there, Daryl was doing a final sweep of the livingroom when he came across an old dog-eared photograph. His eyes swept over the three smiling faces that were frozen in time: a man, his wife, and their son. Settling on his knees he pushed the paper and debris around on the floor that had surrounded the body of the dead man that they had found their first day there. Daryl had long since dragged the corpse outside, but he hadn't paid much mind to the rest of the room.

Pushing papers aside he revealed another glossy image, this one of the man and woman dressed for their wedding, enclosed in one-another's arm, a small white chapel blurry in the green background. Sitting back on his ass, Daryl's fingers traced the smiling faces that had come together to create the fresher one that he had grown to love. He tucked the pictures into his back pocket and searched the room but came up with nothing else. It seemed the dead man had used the rest as kindling for his fire.

Daryl made his way upstairs to Beth's old bedroom to find Judith playing with some glass dolls. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him. She watched him in silent curiosity as he sat down on the bed. "I found somethin' you might like," he told her, digging into his back pocket. She stood and made her way over to him, stopping when she was pressed against his knee. "That there," he pointed to the photo, "is your mama… your daddy, and that's your big brother, Carl."

Judith took the pictures from his hands and looked them over, her innocent face filled with wonder.

Daryl got to his feet quickly and stepped around her, taking the time to ruffle her hair before he left the room.

When he found her later, she already had her coat on and was zipping up her backpack on Hershel's old bed. He watched her pick it up and slide it over one arm and onto her back before slipping her other arm through the other strap.

Daryl's eyes flicked to the bed where she had left the photographs on the blanket. "What's this?" He asked, nodding to them.

"Ain't 'lowed to bring no toys," she answered simply, turning towards him.

Pushing off the doorframe, he walked to the bed and picked up the photos. "These ain't toys," he told her, unzipping her pack. "You hold onto these."


	3. Chapter 3

The top layer of snow was crunchy under their boots as Daryl and Judith made their way across the barren fields towards town. The frozen air felt dry on their skin making it feel tight and uncomfortable. Judith had tucked herself into his side, her face buried in his gloved hand as she walked, stumbling against his leg. He kept his eyes on the snowy farms around them, watching the distance for any signs of danger - dead or otherwise. He had been hoping that they would come across a vehicle, but they hadn't had much luck with them in the past. Most of the gas had gone bad and they wouldn't start.

"What'd happened next?" Judith asked, tugging on his hand.

Daryl took his eyes off the distance for a moment to look at her. "Uhh," he wracked his brain trying to remember the story. "They, uhhh, had a horse, a big ol' wood one that the bad guys all crawled up inside. And that tricked the good guys - the Greeks I think… and they took it into their town, and that night the bad guys crawled out of the horse and killed everyone."

She looked up at him for a moment then blinked. "And them was called Tridgins?"

"Trojans," he corrected. "Like the condoms." He cringed as the words came out of his mouth and he flicked his eyes away, hoping that she wouldn't notice.

The little girl perked up. "Conons?" Judith asked, still watching his face closely. Her free hand flicked up to brush her too long bangs out of her eyes.

"I'll tell ya when yer older," he cleared his throat and nodded to the trees ahead of them. "Yer s'posed to be watchin'. Don't want no Walkers to sneak up on us."

The little girl tightened her hold on his hand again and she settled her eyes outwards. "What means older?" She asked after a moment without looking back at him.

Daryl thought for a moment, adjusting the straps of his pack on his shoulders. The winter settled into his bones and made his joints ache. "When you got more years on ya."

"What's a years?" Judith tugged on his hand and pointed towards a fence off in the distance. It bent like matchsticks under the weight of a dozen or so Walkers as they stumbled against it, knocking snow off its rough posts. "Can we pra'tice, Daryl? Can we?"

Daryl inspected the frozen ground that the fence had been driven into; it seemed sturdy enough. He looked back to the little girl at his side, bouncing on her tips toes. "Well, get'chur gun then," he released her hand and turned his back on her without taking his eyes off the fence. He kept his own sidearm tucked into a shoulder holster that he wore loosely over one arm. The leather felt stiff as he unclipped the strap and slipped the piece out. He hadn't used it in a while; they spent most of their time avoiding the flesh-hungry monsters that pursued them.

Judith had unzipped a pocket on the side of his pack and he could feel her digging around. Her free hand had twisted around the fabric of his coat and she was holding onto it to keep her balance as she stood on her tiptoes. He heard her huff as she tried to grab the gun.

"Better be quicker than that," he told her. "If we gotta fight you're gonna need to get your gun real quick."

"I gotted it!" She exclaimed, releasing her hold on his coat as she stepped back, holding the revolver in one hand. Using her teeth, she pulled her mitten off one hand, then transferred the gun to the other and did the same. With her fingers free she stuffed her mittens into her pockets.

"Wat'cha do first?" He asked her, turning around to face the little girl. He kneeled down slowly onto one knee so that they would be at eye-level. Using his fingertips he pushed her bangs up into her hat so that she would be able to see clearly. As his hands dropped, he moved to take the weapon from her's.

Judith twisted away from him, her lower lip sticking out. "I can do it, Daryl!" She complained, taking a step back. When his hands dropped her eyes narrowed and she squinted at the gun. The weapon looked huge in her tiny hands as she fumbled with it. Finally, she held it to her chest and it clicked as she flipped the safety.

When she looked back to him he gave her a nod of approval. "You be real careful with that. Don't touch the trigger."

Tightlipped, Judith nodded, her features determined. "Bet'cha I can get 'em all, Daryl," she skipped along beside him, barely matching his long strides.

Daryl kept his eyes fixed on the fence before them, watching for any sign that it would give way. It bowed but didn't break under the Walker's weight. When they were a few feet away, his eyes moved to sweep the faces of the Walkers that had worked themselves up into a frenzy, teeth gnashing at the air. Long clawed fingers reached for them and Daryl closed his hand around the bony smooth shape of the little girl's shoulder.

"Alright," he kneeled down beside her and pointed to the Walker that was partially impaled by the fence. The post had pushed clear through the rotten pot of its abdomen, releasing a string of black entrails that wound their way around the wood. Daryl pointed to it and watched as Judith raised her gun, one eye squeezed shut.

She held her breath for a long moment and then lowered the gun. "I's scared," she told him, looking over at him, disappointed. "It goes bang real loud," she frowned.

Daryl took her hands and raised them again. He knee walked until he was behind her and helped her line up the shot. "Hold it real tight so it don't bloody your nose," he instructed, helping her to adjust her fingers. She tensed as he pushed on her finger slowly, finally the trigged clicked and the gun fired. The bullet embedded cleanly into the middle of the forehead of the Walker they had been aiming for.

Judith bounced up and down, giggling. "We got'ted it!" she squealed.

"Focus," Daryl told her firmly.

Judith did as she was told and turned back to the remaining Walkers. He released her hands and she lined up another shot.

Eventually, with his help, she had cleaned up the small herd, reloaded their weapons, and put them away. Judith bounced happily along beside him, her eyes darting around the farms thoughtfully. "Daryl?" She asked, turning back to look at him again.

He grunted.

"Wass' years?" She asked, repeating her question from before.

Daryl sighed at the line of questioning. "Lot's o' days," he told her.

"What's a days?"

Daryl considered the question. "When the sun come up, then goes down again."

"Daryl?" She was looking up at him. "How d'you knows so much stuffs?"

"I went to school," he sighed again. "Now hush up."

She did as she was told and turned her eyes to the ground where she watched her boots sink into the snow. They were partway across the next property when she looked up at him. He caught the head movement and he turned to see her bite her lip, her blue eyes curious.

Daryl took a calming breath. "What?"

"What's school?"

Fighting back his annoyance at her constant questioning, he resisted the urge to tell her to hush again. "A place where kids used to go to learn stuff."

"Did my big brother Carl go'ed to school?"

"Yeah…"

She pursed her lips and nodded, returning to silence.

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief- until she giggled. He looked down to find that she was wearing a mischievous grin and she giggled again as she wrapped both her fingers around his wrist and lifted her legs so she was dangling from his arm.

Daryl rolled his eyes upwards to stare at the grey sky. He wish'd she'd just quit it, already.

By the time they got to town the night had settled comfortably around them. Judith had quieted down and had been plodding along beside him for last few miles. He was grateful for the silence and the break from her constant questioning. Sometimes he missed the good old days before she'd learned to talk… and ask questions.

They left the food store for last, he figured there wouldn't be much there anyway, and headed into the pharmacy. He hoped that they would be able to find fresh gloves at least to change into when theirs became soaked. Some new socks wouldn't go unappreciated either.

Judith headed straight for the drink coolers to look for water, though Daryl suspected she wouldn't find any. In the meantime, he made his way through the maze of collapsed shelves in search of some food. His ears prickled with the effort of listening so hard as he tried to take in everything in their environment.

He came to the back of the store where he found a rack. Most of the glossy magazines had fallen to the ground where they had been trampled and turned into damp pulp, ground into the tile. He turned to move, but paused when his eyes settled on a couple of faded covers. Reaching out, his fingers traced the edges of the thin books as he looked at the ABC and 123 pictures that were scattered over the pages along with drawings of animals and fruits. He dropped his hand and then kept walking.

He paused at the end of the aisle then went back. Scooping up the learning books he rolled them and shoved them into his coat pocket.

XXXX

They spent a couple of weeks in town picking their way through the abandoned stores and neighbourhoods. They slept in a wartime bungalow off the main street. The simple structure had high windows and was set further back from the road. The wild hedges across the front of the property had grown high enough to reach the edge of the roof so their movements wouldn't be spotted easily by passersby. They slept in the living room on a couple of couches, bundled up in the blankets that they had taken from the bedrooms.

Daryl knew that they needed to move on; there were too many Walkers in the area. They could hear them mostly at night, stumbling into cars and overturned garbage cans. Their ragged breaths and growling would cut through the quiet night, tearing Daryl from his sleep. He'd lay awake in the dark, listening to them as they trudged past the house. He'd watch the girl sleeping across the room, ignorant of a world where the dead stayed dead.

In the cold evenings they would boil rice, beans, and lentils. Things that could be packaged and taken with them when they moved on. Judith would count the beans and place them in wax paper and plastic bags, then suck the air out of them and seal them. She had mastered the smaller digits, and so when she reached ten she would start all over again. Daryl would listen to her determined voice, wearing a tiny smile that he hid behind her back.

On their final day there they took the alleyways and Daryl forced the heavy steel door on one of the buildings using a crowbar. Judith stood a couple of steps behind him, turning her head from side to side as she kept watch. When it opened, he pushed her inside first and closed it behind them. He ushered her forward into the main part of the store, hid hand resting on her shoulder. "C'mon," he gave her a gentle shove when she hesitated at the large storefront windows. "Keep yer head down."

Judith looked up at him and then back at the streets that had been occupied by at least a hundred Walkers for the last few days. He had hoped that they would move on, but the mindless corpses had gotten themselves trapped between two busses. They would stagger from one end of the street to the other, hit the bus and then move back again like a game of pinball or fish in a barrel.

"Why are we come here?" Judith asked, crouching down behind a display rack, her knees pulled up to her chin. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes again and looked up at him.

Daryl ducked his head and moved around the store. Most of the boxes lay opened and empty on the floor, tipped onto their sides, tissue paper scattered. He had been hoping there would be more left over. In the early days people had looted most stores, grabbing whatever they could. He figured most of it had wound up going to waste.

Finally he found something that looked like it might work and he picked up the box.

He moved back over to where he had left Judith and crouched down in front of her. She'd picked up a bottle of pink nail polish and was inspecting the glitter curiously.

"Wassat?" She asked, pointing to the box in his hands.

Daryl lifted off the lid off and pulled out a pair of blue and grey boots. "They're boys ones, but they'll do," he told her sliding her old duct taped ones off off her feet.

"Why's they're boys ones?" She asked, watching as he worked.

He pushed the new boots over her heels and tucked her pants into them. They were a little big but she would grow into them soon. "'Cause they are," he told, pulling the straps tight.

Judith shrugged and got to her feet, dropping the nail polish onto the floor next to her old boots. She turned around again and picked up a card that had been punched through to sit on a peg on a display rack. From the end of it dangled several elastic bands, tied together with a small ziptie. She looked at the diagram printed on the cardboard of a girl with her hair tied back in a ponytail. Reaching up Judith captured her own brown hair in her mittened hand and inspected the ends, biting her lip. "I can keep em?"

"What for?" Daryl asked, taking the package from her. He looked it over for a moment then nodded. "Put 'em in your pocket. We'll figure 'em out later. Best if we can getch'yer hair outta yer eyes."

On their way out Daryl traded in some of her old clothes for some new ones while Judith stayed close by, her fingers wrapped around the fabric at the back of his right knee. "Daryl, you could getted some new boots too!"

"If we find some," he answered.

They left the town behind and followed the twists and turns of the highway as it snaked through the forest. They stayed off the road itself and clung to the shoulder, keeping themselves far enough into the tree lines that they would be able to hide if necessary. They travelled South East and then broke away from the main highway to avoid coming across other groups or Walkers.

Judith practiced her counting and her ABCs as they walked, her tiny voice a steady sound in the otherwise silent woods. Sometimes he would help her as she stumbled over the letters, and tell her which words started with which letters. T for tree, R for rock, W for Walker.

They walked for days, stopping to rest at night. They ate the food that they had rationed and the scarce animals that they had been able to hunt. Daryl had hoped that there would be more to eat the deeper they got into the woods, but with no natural competitors, the Walkers had left very little alive.

It had been almost a month since they had left Hershel's farm when they opened their last food ration. The beans had gone sour as they ate them, but neither of them complained as their stomachs cramped and growled with hunger. Judith finished her portion first and then tossed the wax paper into the fire. They watched the edges melt until the flames caught enough traction, and then it burned slowly. She picked up a thin log next and tossed it on top of the pit, causing it to spit sparks into the air that drifted upwards until they disappeared against the starry sky.

"I ever tell ya 'bout the time I saw a Chupacabra?" Daryl asked her, reaching out snag the back of her coat. He tugged her backwards until she lost her footing and landed on his lap. They'd laid the tarp out on the ground so they could sleep closer to the fire.

Judith nodded, keeping her eyes on the flames. Reaching around her, he turned her palm over and set the wax paper in her hand with the remainder of his food. Her head twisted around to look at him and he nodded towards the food and closed her inside the sleeping bag with him.

"I was huntin' for squirrel when I saw it. Long time ago. I was older than you, few years or so-," he told her, watching as she folded the beans up carefully into the paper again and tucked them into her pocket. "I was down by the ol' creek. Had to climb down this ridge, 'bout forty feet up or so-," he looked down when Judith curled into him, her head tucked into his chest. Reaching over he grabbed the blanket from inside his pack and draped it over her to provide some extra warmth. He picked up Beanie from the tarp beside him and tucked the doll in with her.

"Daryl? Wassa' Joobiegoobrie?" she asked sleepily, her head dropping into the crook of his arm as she pulled her doll closer to her chest.

"Chupacabra," he corrected, watching as her breaths evened out and she drifted off to sleep. Very slowly, so as not to wake her, he moved until he was on his side, Judith tucked into his chest, her head under his chin. He sighed and closed his eyes and started counting the seconds until he fell asleep too.

The next morning he woke before Judith. He left her to sleep longer, knowing he had no food to give her. It would be better to let her continue to dream about a world where she would know no hunger. He stroked her hair, stiff from the frozen air, and stared at blue sky peeking through the bare branches above them. His back ached from sleeping on the frozen dirt but he kept still, listening.

He almost leaped up at the sound when it came, but he forced himself to stay still and quiet. He strained to hear it, somewhere in the distance, echoing around the brittle frosty woods. The sound of someone chopping wood.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ya keep yer voice down," Daryl instructed in a hushed voice, placing his palm against Judith's chest and pushing her behind him. They hid behind a wide old growth oak, its trunk thick enough to conceal them. From where they stood they were able to get a good look at the man who several yards away, who was hacking at a much slimmer birch. He felt his pack jostle as Judith unzipped the side pouch and fished out her gun, her hand gripping his pants as she steadied herself.

Daryl unclasped his holster and slid his own weapon out.

They watched in silence as the man split the thicker logs in half to create firewood. The ground around him had been trampled heavily, and Daryl noted several smaller footprints that had left a trail cutting away from the man and into a short distance before they disappeared over a hill. The man paused for a moment to straighten out his back and then arched it, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead. He looked younger than Daryl, maybe in his later twenties or early thirties. Daryl figured he wasn't a born woodsman from the way held his axe and the tattoos that peeked out on his neck from underneath his combat jacket. Daryl doubted he was a military man either, due to the large piercings in his ears.

"'s he gonna hurt us?" The little girl behind him whispered, peering around him.

Daryl shushed her again and waited for something to happen. In the distance the trees shimmered and knocked together as two young children appeared over the hill. He squinted to focus on them, determining that it was a boy and girl. The boy had a good height on the girl, but neither appeared to be much older than ten. They were dressed warmly, and their clothes looked clean enough except for the stray bark that clung to their chests and arms from carrying firewood.

The girl rushed ahead of the boy as they came down the hill but lost her footing and skidded in the snow until she landed in a heap at the man's feet. He laughed softly and helped her up, taking the time to brush her off when she was on her feet. The boy came over more slowly, his eyes scanning the woods around him. When he joined the other's he stood on his toes to whisper in his stooped father's ear. They both turned to look over their shoulders towards the tree that Daryl and Judith were hiding behind.

Daryl wondered how they could have known until he looked down to see that Judith had leaned out far enough to give them away, her face alight with curiosity as she inspected the other children.

"Are you alone, little girl?" The man asked, taking a step towards them.

Judith looked up to Daryl and then ducked behind him again.

"Come out, we won't hurt you," the man's voice rose to carry across the distance to them.

Daryl tucked his gun into his pocket and carefully took a step outwards, leaving the coverage of the tree behind. "We're just passin' on our way now," he gripped Judith's hand, keeping her close to his side.

The man nodded and draped one arm over his son's shoulder. He dropped the head of the axe onto the ground and leaned on it like a cane. The little girl next to him said something, her voice too soft for Daryl to hear, and the man looked to her and then back towards Daryl. "My wife has a stew on for tonight…and some biscuits and canned peaches for breakfast. That's all we've got."

Daryl shook his head and turned around, taking Judith with him.

"Your little girl looks hungry," the man said. "That's the only reason I'm offering. My wife hates to see a hungry child."

Judith's mittens were soft and wet in his bare hands and he looked down at her, plodding along beside him, her little legs straining to match his long strides. "Wass biscuitses?" She asked, watching the ground as she walked carefully over the cluttered forest floor.

Daryl took one more step and then paused, causing Judith to collide into his leg. He looked down at her, his eyes taking in her pale face as she tilted it upwards questioningly. Sighing, he crouched down, turning his back to the man and children. He took the gun that she still held in her mittened hands and tucked it into his other pocket. "Keep yer mouth shut 'bout this," he told her, patting his pocket.

She nodded obediently. "'Kay, Daryl."

"C'mon," he said, getting to his feet. "You don't tell them nothin' 'bout where we're from or where we're goin'."

"Where is we goin'?' Judith asked, running alongside him as they turned around and started back.

They stopped a few feet back from the family and Daryl looked the man over again. "If you got food… we sure could use somethin'."

The man extended his hand, taking the time to remove his leather gloves. "Rob," he introduced himself.

Daryl put his hand on Judith's shoulder to tell her to stay put and then took the final steps that he needed to accept the hand-shake. "Daryl," he muttered.

Rob broke their connection and gathered up his son and daughter respectively under each of his arms. "This here is my son Garret, and Susan here is my daughter."

When Daryl didn't say anything, Rob cleared his throat and nodded towards the little girl who had come forward to hide behind Daryl's legs, her face buried into the spot behind his knees. "Does your little girl have a name?"

"Judith," Daryl answered, turning around to pick her up. He rested her on his side and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, hiding her face in his shoulder.

Rob offered Judith a smile, but she didn't return it. Her expression shifted between curiosity and suspicion as she looked him over, her mouth pulled into a straight line. Finally she turned away from him and snuggled into Daryl's chest, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"You guys gather up the rest of this wood," Rob nudged his kids towards the pile then indicated that Daryl should follow him. "She's young," he said over his shoulder as he led them towards the hill. "She was born after all this started, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," Daryl answered, holding Judith closer. They walked in silence, and he kept his eyes trained on the woods around them. He was surprised that the boy and girl were allowed to be on their own in the woods. As they came over the crest of the hill the forest opened up a bit to a small manmade clearing. A wooden cottage was nestled into large berry bushes in the middle of a fenced off yard. The fence seemed solid and was made of large spikes that had been driven into the ground and tied together with thick twine. He hung back as Rob unlatched the fence and pushed the gate open. "This keep the Walkers out?"

"Walkers?" Rob asked, waiting for the children to pass through with their arms heavy with wood. "You mean the Savages?" When Daryl shrugged he chucked softly and closed the gate, using his shoulder to slide it into place before he latched it. "Quiet type, huh? Walkers. That's clever. That does seem to be what they do mostly, doesn't it?"

"They bites too," Judith said softly, twisting her body around to look at him. "They eats peoples."

Rob winked. "That's okay. We bite back," he teased, reaching out to tickle her belly. Stone-faced, her eyes flicked down to look at his fingers, wiggling against the fabric of her coat. Frowning, she whipped around and wrapped her arms around Daryl's neck again. "Not the joking type then," Rob offered Daryl an apologetic smile which went unreturned.

Without another word Rob turned around and followed Susan and Garret into the small cottage. Daryl took a moment to inspect the pine boughs piled high on the roof and the small snowy window sills. He could smell the biscuits as he stepped into the main room of the cabin that had been crammed wall to wall with furniture. A large rough wooden table sat in front of a stone fireplace. And iron grate was settled into the flames with a large steaming pot of something. Daryl heard Judith's stomach growl.

A woman, dressed in an ankle length dress had her back to the room as she scrubbed laundry in a metal tub on the floor.

"Katrina," Rob squeezed around the table and a pantry cabinet to make his way over to her. His hands closed around her biceps and he helped her to her feet. "We have visitors."

With her husband's assistance the woman stood and turned around, revealing bright green eyes and a thin nose. She looked between Daryl and Judith for a moment, then her eyes settled on Judith and her face warmed into a smile. Slender hands drifted forward to caress her very pregnant belly. "Welcome," she motioned for them to take a seat at the table.

"I told them about the pears and biscuits," Rob pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to go feed the animals. Susan? Garret?"

"Animals?" Daryl asked, sitting down at the table, Judith still clinging to him.

Rob took a biscuit from the plate that his wife was carrying as she passed him. "We've got a bit of a zoo," he laughed. "It's hard work to keep the Savages from collecting by the pen, but it's worth it for a good meal."

"You can give him a tour later," Katrina flicked at him with a dishtowel, shooing him out. "He'd talk all day if I let him," she said good humouredly. "Have a bite to eat and then we'll see about getting you cleaned up. How does that sound, sweetheart?" She tilted her head as she addressed Judith.

The small girl in his arms lifted her head at the endearment as she recognized it as one Daryl used for her. She looked the woman over for a moment and then offered a small nod in response. "Okay," she whispered.

XXXX

Daryl sat in the corner of the room where he'd made a bed for himself and Judith on the floor. Katrina had given them extra blankets made from thick wool to pad the wooden floor planks. The entire family slept in the only other room in the cabin: a small room in the back that was stuffed with two beds and a couple of large wardrobes.

He watched carefully as Katrina bathed Judith in the same tub she had been using to wash laundry earlier. The little girl was still very wary of their hosts, but she'd at least relinquished her hold on Daryl for the time being. She kept a skeptical eye on Katrina each time the woman asked her to raise her arms so that she could scrub the dirt off of her limbs. The pregnant woman had tried to make conversation with Judith, but she hadn't received any answers to her questions and she'd eventually settled for humming or offering gentle warm smiles.

"She doesn't talk much," Katrina noted, looking over her shoulder at Daryl. "How old is she?"

"Best guess, 'bout four," Daryl answered, getting to his feet and making his way over to them. He picked up the towel that had been left on the table, and then kneeled down beside the tub. "She does alright," he muttered. He opened the towel and Judith eagerly leapt from the dirty water, securing her arms around his neck. Daryl closed the towel around the naked girl and stood, lifting her with him.

Katrina watched them, a small smile playing in the corners of her mouth. The fire picked out the red in her auburn hair as she looked up at him, her green eyes soft. "Where's her mom?"

Daryl carried Judith across the room and sat down with her on their bed. Katrina had given him a large shirt for her to wear and a pair of thick knitted socks. "Died," he answered shortly. "Havin' her."

Katrina's hand drifted to rest on her own belly for a moment. "Poor thing. I'm sorry… she was your wife?"

His hands paused as he fumbled with one of the socks that he was trying to pull over Judith's toes. "Naw," he shook his head. "Weren't my nothin'. Her Daddy died too. S'just us."

"Poor thing," Katrina muttered again, tipping the tub so that the water rushed out of it and down the drain next to the hearth.

Daryl shrugged. "You got scissors?" He asked, reaching up to push Judith's hair out of her eyes. "I'll just take a little," he promised. "So as you can see." He accepted the metal shears from Katrina with a nod.

"You know what you're doing?" She asked, crossing her arms over her pregnant belly.

"Not like I ain't never cut hair before," he mumbled, lining the scissors up with the top of the little girls fine eyebrows. After a moment he looked up at the woman still towering over him. "Could do better if you weren't standin' in my light," he pointed out gruffly.

Katrina chuckled softly and put her hands up in surrender. Without answering him verbally she made her way across the room to the little kitchen where she started pulling out bowls and spoons. The only sounds in the little room were the fire crackling, the clinking of dishes, and the blades cutting through thick brown hair.

"Could we's use them things?" Judith asked after a moment, keeping her blue eyes squeezed shut to avoid getting hair in her eyes.

Daryl, who'd been collecting the fallen hair in his palm, stopped what he was doing. "What things?"

"Are I done?" The little girl asked, sitting back on her feet. Finally her eyes opened to reveal that they were dancing with excitement in the warm fire glow. With Daryl's confirmation she pushed herself to her feet and dashed across the room to her coat, which had been hung on the back of a chair to dry. She dug through the pocket for a moment, and then pulled out the hair bands. She skipped back over to Daryl and leapt onto their bed, landing on her knees.

Daryl accepted the package and inspected the picture on the now faded and wrinkled cardboard. He looked up at her. "I don't know nothin' 'bout-," he watched Judith start to frown and she took the hair bands back to him.

With her enthusiasm dashed, she slowly got to her feet again and headed over to the fire. She was about to toss them in when Katrina spoke up. "I can show you how to use them. It's really simple," she assured him. Daryl stood up too and joined them at the table. He watched as Katrina instructed him on how to do a simple pony tail, and then a braid. He liked the braid, because it made her look like her mama, so they left it in for the night.

When Rob returned they all sat around the large wooden table and ate goat stew that was packed with carrots and potatoes. Daryl's mouth watered between each bite that he shovelled into it.

"Y'all don't sound like yer from 'round here," Daryl said, pushing his bowl away from him, his second helping devoured. He shook his head to decline a third bowl when Rob offered him another scoop, and wondered why they weren't worried about running out of food to eat. It had seemed to be the thing constantly on his mind for years.

Rob looked up from his bowl. "We aren't. We're from Seattle. We were here visiting my parents when everything went down. We couldn't exactly hop on the next flight home, so we found this little cabin and hunkered down." Using his bun he soaked up the gravy from the bottom of his bowl. "It took a while to adjust to the… rural life. But I think we've got a handle on things now."

Daryl accepted their story with a nod. He'd hoped that by now he would have been able to figure out something more stable for Judith and himself. He hoped that's what they would find if they continued further south. Maybe they could find a boat and sail off somewhere. Find themselves an island, a tropical one, where they could create a home. Eat mangos and coconuts - like Gilligan's island.

"Ain't Susan comin' in to eat?" Daryl asked, looking at the empty seat at the table, next to Garret. He'd found it odd when she didn't come back in after feeding the animals with her father and brother. He was met with awkward silence and he looked up in time to catch the shared glance between Katrina and Rob.

Rob smiled again. "Uh, she came back in earlier. She's already in bed. Sure I can't get you some more stew?"

Daryl didn't miss the subject change, and he hadn't missed her coming in earlier either. Slowly, he sat back in his seat. "Naw. Ain't used to eatin' so much now'days." He looked over to his side to see that Judith had fallen asleep, her cheek resting on the table, hidden behind her half-empty bowl. "Should get'er to bed," he pushed his chair back and stood.

"Of course," Katrina got to her feet as well. "We'll be heading off soon too. I'll just put these bowls in some water to soak. "Garret, you go put your pyjamas on, and don't forget to say your prayers."

The boy handed his bowl to his mother before standing and heading towards the bedroom, his eyes carefully trained on Daryl as he walked. "Goodnight," he said softly before stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Daryl had already lifted Judith into his arms, and he carried the limp girl over to their bed. He laid her down so that she would be sleeping between him and the wall and then took a seat beside her. He watched Katrina bustling around as she cleaned up the dinner dishes, her dress brushing the tops of her bare feet.

When she was finished her husband led her to the bedroom, his hand resting on the small of her back. "Goodnight," Rob tipped his head in Daryl's direction.

"G'night," Daryl answered, still seated on the bed. He sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the family talking, their voices so hushed and muted through the wooden walls that he couldn't make out what they were saying. Eventually the light from the bedroom dimmed and the house went still and silent. He watched the logs crackle and spit in the fireplace and listened to Judith's soft breaths as the night crept towards the day.

It was barely dawn when he pushed himself to his feet. The fire had died down to ashes and glowing embers, and the room had grown colder in its absence. Quietly, Daryl got to his feet and crept towards the door, taking a moment to slide his boots on. He glanced towards the bed in the corner where Judith had flipped over in her sleep. She lay on her back with her thumb plugged into her mouth while her other arm was splayed across her pillow, its fingers curled slightly at the tips. Slowly, he opened the door and carefully not to make a sound, crept out into the early morning.


	5. Chapter 5

The forest seemed shallow in the blue and grey hues of the early morning. A fresh powdery layer of snow coated the crust of the old muddy stuff that lay beneath it. Daryl took a moment to breathe in the thin mountain air and he pulled his gun out of his coat pocket, leaving Judith's in the other where he had tucked it earlier. The woods were silent other than the sound of his own feet crunching in the snow. He rounded the corner of the cabin and headed towards the back of it, where he assumed Rob and Katrina kept their barn and animals. All night he had been unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him since dinner. Nervously, he checked over his shoulder towards the small window at the back of the cabin, not even large enough for Judith to climb through. If Susan had come inside it hadn't been through there, and there was no other way except the front door.

The barn was settled towards the back of the yard. It was barely much bigger than the house and had clearly been put together by Rob or someone else who didn't have much experience swinging a hammer. The clapboard siding had been set far enough apart that Daryl could see the side of some furry white animal brushing against it. A deep bleat told him it was a goat and he looked around nervously in case the sound alerted the family who was still hopefully sleeping inside.

The barn had been padlocked closed and the metal froze his fingers when he reached up to grab it. He gave it a hard tug but it held fast. Sighing, he released the lock and walked around the structure until he came to a gap in the wood that was particularly wide. He peered inside at the goats and chickens that could move freely throughout the space, but they seemed to have hunkered down for the night on the pine branch floor.

Daryl couldn't see the entire space but he was confident that Susan wasn't in there. The sound of scratching caught his attention and he looked towards the far wall of the barn. Something large was on the outside of the barn, clawing at the walls. Its blurry shape moved across the gaps, blocking the dewy light from filtering inside. Daryl took a step back and looked around. He spotted a wooden dovetail ladder leaning against the fence that marked the end of the property that the family had claimed for themselves. The ladder had been used recently, Daryl noted, his eyes flicking over the highly trafficked, stamped down path in the snow.

Slowly, he made his way over to the ladder. He tested its strength under one foot, and then pulled himself up when he was sure it was sturdy. He climbed quickly, though it was just a short distance to the slightly angled thatched roof. He was worried he'd fall straight through, but the pine branches were firm underneath his palms and knees when he climbed onto it. Crawling, he made his way towards the back of the building, and then moved into a crouched position when he made it to the ledge.

A half-a-dozen Walkers had become trapped at the back of the barn. Daryl watched them stagger around in the small area, bumping into one another and the waist high fence. Two of them had become aware of the animals on the other side of the wall and were prying at the boards, their teeth gnashing as they growled. Daryl squinted at the gate suspiciously. It looked like it opened in the way, and there was a strange latch on it that locked it in place unless pushed from the outside, like a zip-tie.

He wondered why Katrina and Rob would be trapping Walkers like animals behind their barn. He crawled backwards until his feet hit the ladder and he descended it quickly. He was heading back inside when another sound caught his attention. It was similar to the one that the Walkers were making on the barn, but more like nails on metal. He looked towards the small tool shed a few feet away and tilted his head.

"Kid?" He asked, walking over to the shed. Using his knuckles, Daryl rapped softly on the rusted sheet metal siding. The sound sent whatever was in the barn into a frenzy of scratching and growling, making Daryl step backwards. He moved around to the other side of the shed, his index finger resting on the trigger of his gun.

He found the door, this time secured with a simple latch threaded through a loop. Reaching forward he flicked the latch with his pinky, and then stepped back his gun raised. He waited expectantly, his breath hanging in the air before him like a ghost, the forest silent around him. Using his foot, he opened the door, his eyes barely able to penetrate the thick darkness inside the shed. Something moved and his finger twitched on the trigger but he didn't pull it.

Heavy raspy breaths came from the darkness and he took another step back as a figure appeared. It took another step out onto the frozen ground outside, its hands at its side, fingers twisted around each other like gnarled tree branches.

Daryl thought it was a Walker, until he saw her eyes, still crystal clear. He could hear her heart pounding from the distance and her breathing was more than a reflex, she was moving oxygen in and out of her rapidly rising and falling chest. But the girl was barely recognizable as her once child-like features had morphed into something almost demonic. Her lips curled over her crooked teeth as she snapped at him, growling, her head twisted to an impossible angle as she looked at him over her ridged nose, pulled back to accentuate flared nostrils. The girl took another step towards him, her boots crunching in the snow and then she ran at him snarling, a thin line of drool sliding down her chin.

Daryl's hands closed over her shoulders and he dropped his gun, not prepared to kill the child. She fought him like a wild animal and he stared into her wild eyes as he tackled her to the ground. He landed heavily on top of her and he used his limbs to hold her's in place. She kicked and scratched, bucking her body to throw him, but he held her tightly, calmly examining her blown pupils.

She seemed to tire not long after and she went slack against the ground, her face lulling to the side, eyes opened, too large in her pale face. He would have assumed she was dead if it weren't for the slight rise and fall of her chest and the slight whistling sound that she made each time she inhaled.

Daryl felt his own adrenaline begin to leave his body and he loosened his grip on her. As he did so she turned her face back towards him, the movement slow and rigid. The manic expression had disappeared and her pupils had shrunken back to a normal size as she gazed up at him. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began to tremble.

Daryl got to his feet and looked down at the girl, lying on the ground. He backed away from her, leaving her to curl up into a ball in the snow, sobbing into her hands. He moved quickly and ran around to the front of the cabin. He threw the door open, allowing it to smash against the wall, rattling the entire cabin.

Judith shot out of a dead sleep and sat up. "Daryl," she whimpered, reaching up to rub her eyes. "Why you did that?"

She'd barely finished the question before the bedroom door swung open and Rob flew into the room, a hunting knife in hand. "What the hell?" The other man asked, seeing Daryl standing in the doorway.

"Saw Susan," Daryl said, taking a step towards the other man. "Think we'll be on our way now," he sidestepped so that he was closer to being between the other man and Judith, who had pulled her knees up to her chest, her wide eyes glassy and filled with tears.

"Why we're going?" She asked, scrubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hands.

Rob held out his hands, the knife balancing between his thumb and palm. "We can talk about this. I can explain," he shook his head slightly.

"You wanna talk?" Daryl cocked his head dangerously. "Why don't you 'splain why yer kid went all exorcist on my ass," he took a step towards the other man. "And why you got Walkers all held up behind yer barn like some kind of a' animal pen."

"You don't understand," Rob shrugged. "That first year was horrible. We didn't know what to do. The animals weren't breeding, we didn't know anything about farming," he swung his arm out to gesture to the space around them. "I did not know what to do. My family was starving and those damn Savages were eating everything!"

Daryl paused as he tried to understand what the other man was telling him. Finally it clicked and he stared at the other man with a combination of disgust and disbelief. "You fed Walkers to your family?"

"Like I said, you don't know what it was like… what it's still like," Rob deflated, dropping his hands to his sides. "They were starving, and I didn't know what to do… before I knew it, they started…" he shook his head. "Acting like animals… It happens to Katrina and me too, but we're better at controlling it. But the kids…."

Judith whimpered behind him and he felt rage surge through him. He leapt across the room, closing his fingers around Rob's throat as he drove the man backwards until they connected with the wall. "Did you feed my girl Walker meat?" He demanded, squeezing Rob's throat tightly until he could feel the man's pulse racing underneath his finger tips. He could feel hands grasping at him from behind, grabbing at his arms and clothes. He swung his fist backwards, swiping away whoever was holding onto him. They collided with the table and a chair clattered to the floor in his periphery. He ignored them and stared into Rob's eyes as they swelled out of their sockets and his face turned red. "Did. You. Feed. My. Girl. Walker. Meat." His voice was so low that he barely recognized it.

Rob shook his head rapidly and Daryl let his fingers slacken their hold. He took a step back and the other man collapsed forward, gasping for air, his hands crossed over his throat. Daryl looked to Katrina who lay on her side on the floor, her feet tangled up in the overturned chair, her arms wrapped around her swollen belly.

A flurry of movement caught his attention but he reacted too slowly to stop the blade from slicing deeply across his side. He managed to stop the second attack by connecting his fist with Garret's face, successfully knocking the knife from his hand. The dazed boy scrambled for it, but Daryl was quicker. Without processing the situation he drove the blade into the smooth skin of Garret's throat and let go of the handle.

The boy's eyes widened with shock and pulled it out the knife then let it clatter to floor. He waivered for a couple of second on his feet, his hands closed over to the wound on his throat, unable to contain the jet of blood that shot between his fingers. A sickening choking sound gurgled from his throat before he crumpled to the floor.

Katrina's cries filled the cabin and Daryl started shoving his and Judith's things into their bags. Rob dragged his son's lifeless body towards him and clutched the boy in his arms as he cried.

Judith had pulled her boots on, though she still only wore the large t-shirt. She picked up her backpack and grabbed her freshly washed doll from beside the fireplace, her eyes fixed on the pregnant woman who lay in a sobbing heap on the floor. Carefully, the little girl stepped over her and picked up the crackers and jars of fruit from the shelf in the small kitchen area. She shoved them into her bag and stepped over Katrina again then joined Daryl at the door.

Daryl grabbed Judith's hand and pulled her away from the cabin. He kicked the gate with enough force to break the latch and they fled into the surrounding woods.

XXXXX

They struggled through the woods with partially packed bags that hung open, flopping in the wind. One of Daryl's arms held onto a wad of blankets while the other was bent, his hand applying pressure to the deep gauge in his side where Garret had stabbed him. The wound had been steadily seeping blood that had soaked through his sleeve and was dripping onto the snow, leaving a trail of tiny red pearls behind him.

Judith remained a few steps back, teeth chattering as the cold air froze her bare legs, the cotton of her nightgown too thin to hold any heat or offer any protection from the winter air. She stooped down every few feet to sink her numb red hands into the snow so that she could bury the blood drops in case there were any Walkers in the area to pick up their trail. "Daryl?" She asked, kicking snow over another drop of blood. "When could we stop?"

"Look like a good place to you?" He asked in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he fought back a wave of nausea. He'd had worse injuries in his life, like the time he'd rolled an ATV, but he'd been younger then. The malnutrition and exhaustion had taken its toll on his body, making him weak and stupid apparently. He felt anger: towards Rob and Katrina for being so ignorant, Garret for attacking him and forcing his hand, and towards himself for trusting them in the first place. His anger was further fueled by the wound in his side that he didn't have time to stop and treat; they needed to get as far away from the little cabin as possible.

Judith frowned, shaking her head. "Is you hurted bad?" She asked, lifting her legs high to clear the snow that almost reached the top of her boots this close to the mountain summit.

"M'fine," Daryl muttered shortly, turning around to keep walking, his eyes scanning the woods around him. They settled on a something in the distance, mostly buried in the snow. Slowly, he picked his way towards it, keeping his chin tucked into his chest. When they reached the black rubber protrusion he swiped the snow off it, wincing at the sharp pain in his side.

"Wassat?" Judith asked, stopping beside him. She peered up at him curiously, her nose and cheeks beet-red.

"For loggin," he answered, inspecting the deep treads on the large tire. He recognized the equipment from his time working up north in the mountains when he was in his early twenties. Merle had met a man in prison who had said there was plenty of work for men who didn't have much else going for them. The three of them had gone up together. It had been a three-month alcohol and party binge for his brother, but Daryl had relished every day of working outdoors until the company closed down for the season. "Gotta be a loggin' community 'round here somewhere."

"Wass loggin'?" Judith asked, her teeth chattering loudly, making it hard for her to speak.

Daryl ignored the question that he didn't have the energy to answer and brushed the snow on the windshield into a small pile. He looked over at Judith and motioned for her to take the blankets from him, annoyed when she fumbled with them because she already had her doll in her hands. "Gimme that," Daryl growled, his side gushing more heavily now that he wasn't applying pressure to it. "Damn thing," he tossed the doll onto the ground at her feet. "Hold 'em up," he demanded, piling the blankets into her arms.

Judith's arms extended around the jumbled mass, barely long enough to hold them up off the ground. She waivered, trying to keep her balance with the large load and she arched her back to find equilibrium. "Beanie-," she began, her wide eyes fixed on the ground.

Daryl had already gone back to collecting snow from the top of the machinery. He packed it tightly into a ball and lifted his shirt, exposing the bloody gash that extended from the side of his stomach and swung upwards in an arc to his side, just under his ribs. He winced as he pressed the snowball to the wound, hoping that the cold would help to slow the bleeding or at least numb the pain.

"Let's go," he said, pushing away from the truck, staggering slightly as his head swam. He took a few unsteady steps, blinking heavily as he tried to clear his vision.

Over his shoulder, Judith glanced down at her doll, splayed across the snow. Still balancing the blankets she tried to crouch down and pick it up but she couldn't get a firm enough hold on it.

"I said let's go! Now, y'hear?" Daryl barked stomping further and further away.

Slowly, Judith rose again, her eyes staring into the black dots that Daryl had drawn onto the doll's face with a marker that night at Hershel's farm. Pouting, she looked up at Daryl's retreating back and then down at the doll again, with its tiny smile and apple dress, freshly washed in the tub with at Rob and Katrina's. Thin tears welled up in her eyes then finally broke free, leaving a cold trail over her cheeks. "G'night, Beanie," she whispered, sniffling as she left her behind.

He'd been right that they hadn't been far from a small logging community. By the time the sun had climbed overhead they came to a small clearing in the dense woods. The trailers appeared first, rusted and weathered. Surrounding them in a semi-circle were several log cabins that had been ravaged and torn apart, probably by Walkers blowing through the community. Daryl crouched down beside a tree and planted his bloody hand against its bark. He used it to hold his weight and he looked behind him for Judith. She was still a few feet away, trembling with tears blurring her eyes as she tripped over part of the blanket that had fallen from the large bundle in her arms.

"Gotta keep up," he whispered, putting his hand out. She made her way over to him and stood beside him. In his crouched position he was at eye-level with her. "Christ," he grunted, inspecting her hair that had come loose from her braid, her long brown strands sticking to her tear-stained cheeks. Her hands and lips had gone blue and he realized that she barely had any clothes on. "C'mere," he motioned for her to come closer.

She hesitated, watching him closely, her eyes staring into his unblinkingly. After a moment she took the final steps and allowed him to fold her into a hug. Daryl winced as a sharp pain shot across his side but he didn't release the little girl who had wrapped her arms around him. Groaning, he used his legs to push himself to his feet, bracing his body against the tree. Judith wrapped her legs around him, burying her face in his neck as she cried softly, her entire body trembling against him, so frail and tiny. He'd forgotten how tiny she was.

Ignoring his throbbing side, he picked up one of the blankets that had fallen to the ground and wrapped it around her. Pushing off the tree he stumbled towards the most intact building in the camp, keeping an eye out for any people, dead or otherwise. They collided against the stair railing, Daryl panting for breath, sweat collecting on his upper lip as he struggled to carry Judith. The door stuck at first when he tried to open it, but with another shove he broke the icy seal and pushed it inwards to reveal an office space. The trailer was freezing but he figured it would do for now. Judith was reluctant to let go of him when he tried to put her on the couch and he had to pry her hands away.

He crouched down beside her and reached out to take her face in his hands. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and Daryl felt his heart pick up speed as he recognized that void as the same one that he had seen in Susan's gaze. "Judith," he tapped her cheek, fear flooding his heart as it occurred to him that Rob could have been lying about the goat stew. He gripped her face harder, this time giving it a firm shake.

"Beanie go'ed 'way," she whimpered, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Daryl's tense muscles relaxed when she spoke, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

"Where'd she go?" He asked, swiping tears off her cheek, leaving a smear of blood in his thumb's wake. He cringed at the crimson staining her soft smooth skin.

Judith's eyes stayed fixed on his as a tears clung to her bottom lashes. She shook her head, dislodging the droplets, and buried her face in her blanket.

"It's just a doll," he told her, reaching out to hug her again. "It don't matter."

The little girl nodded, her downturned face hardening as she stared straight ahead, accepted his words. "'kay, Daryl."

Daryl nodded and got to his feet. He looked around the small trailer, his open hand coming to press against his tender side. The room seemed to be intact for the most part, as though the camp's Foreman had simply packed up and left one day. Daryl noted a map on the far wall and made a mental note to take it with them when they moved on. He stepped around the closest desk and made his way over to the counters and cabinets on the opposite wall. They contained mostly paper, random office junk, and stationary. The first aid kit had been dumped open on the floor and he sucked his teeth at the sight of the ravaged supplies. Peering inside the cabinet before him, his eyes settled on a small clear bottle with a red thumb-cap. He picked it up and read the bottle, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Judith," he turned back to the little girl. "Need yer help."

The couch was straight out of the 1980's and was covered in some kind of cord that scratched his cheek when he laid down on it. They'd closed the blinds and curtains, partially to conserve heat, but also to stay hidden from any Walkers that may stumble through. Judith had lit several candles around the room so they would be able to see in the absence of natural light.

The little girl stood beside him, the Super Glue bottle held in her small hands, waiting patiently for him to instruct her.

"I'm gonna close the skin," he explained, checking in with her for comprehension. When she nodded, he continued. "And then you squeeze that there bottle real tight n' pour it over the cut, 'kay?"

Judith nodded again, her braid falling over her shoulder.

Gritting his teeth he placed his palms on either side of the gash and squeezed it together. The small valley had filled with a river of deep red blood that oozed out when it closed. Judith quickly wiped the blood away with her nightgown and looked up at Daryl, nervously biting down on her lower lip. "Hurry," he encouraged her, sweat beading across his forehead as he strained to remain conscious through the blinding pain.

Judith quick turned the bottle upside down and squeezed the clear gelled liquid out over the wound, first in a line and then back again to create a seal. "One, two, three, four," she looked up at him again, hesitating.

"Five," he gasped.

"Five, six, seven…" she frowned thoughtfully and paused. "Three, four, five," she finished in a rush, watching his trembling hands. "S'done?" She asked, standing up on her tip-toes, her hands resting on the couch cushion beside him as she leaned in closer to see. Her nose wrinkled at the chemical smell.

Daryl released the skin and let his hands fall back, his biceps twitching with exertion. The skin pulled uncomfortably, but it stayed together. Judith placed the half empty bottle on the carpet at her feet and crawled onto the couch with him. He wrapped her up into a tight hug and held her against him.

"You make me think stupid, Lil' Ass Kicker," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he adjusted the thick wool blanket over them.

Judith lifted her face to look up at him. "Why's you thinkin' stupid?"

"I'm gonna get'ch yer Beanie for ya," he promised, closing his eyes.

Judith's breaths were warm against his chest as she settled against him, her cold hands winding around the bloodied fabric of his shirt. "Why?" The question was soft and had an innocent lilt to it that made his heart tighten as though she'd wrapped her baby hands around it and squeezed.

"This world ain't got much kindness in it, and it's gonna hurt'cha over n' over again. Most the time I won't be able to do nothin' to stop it," Daryl told her. "But if I can- 'Cause I… 'cause I love ya, Jude," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the water-stained ceiling tiles.

"Wass that means?" Judith asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Means I'm fond o' ya, that's all," his voice was gruff as he shifted, trying to get comfortable on the old couch. "Now shut yer trap n' sleep."

Judith's breaths had already evened out and he lay in stillness, listening to the sounds of the wind whistling through the trees and water dripping from somewhere in the ceiling.


	6. Chapter 6

"He ain't comin'," Merle stubbed his cigarette out on the arm of the old sofa that had been rotting away on their front porch for more than half a decade. The sun-bleached fabric had gone crusty with age and moisture over the years and Merle had been using it as an ashtray since he started smoking at ten years-old. At almost twenty now, Merle had already had a few stints in prison and was waiting for his trial date for his latest drug charges. He'd bought himself a motorcycle, an old chopper that he'd been fixing up in the driveway. He'd promised to take Daryl out on it when it was ready.

"He's comin'," the six year-old insisted from his seat on the top step, his hands twisting the father's day card he'd made in school. He'd drawn a picture of Merle's new motorcycle on the front, though his teacher didn't have the right crayons so it'd come out looking stupid because it was black, not silver. Daryl placed the card next to him on the step and smoothed his hands over his hair, making sure to gel it out of his eyes with spit. His daddy was taking him to see the races today; he'd never seen a real horse race before.

"'Cept he ain't," Merle taunted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He cleared his throat and spat, the glob of saliva making a clear shot across the porch to land on the grass. "When'd he ever come before?"

Daryl ran his hand over his jeans and fixed his shirt and jacket. He'd wished he had a proper suit to wear, and some black dress shoes, his eyes flicked down to his worn out high-tops and he sighed. "Shut up, shit head," he muttered, picking up his card again and looking it over.

"Watch yer goddamn mouth or I'll wipe it clean off yer face," Merle threatened, tossing the butt of his cigarette at the back of his younger brother's head.

Daryl swiped it away and went back to looking down the road for his Dad's Park Avenue. "He'll come," he whispered, tucking his crossed fingers under his thighs so Merle wouldn't see.

"Yeah, well, he ain't comin'," Merle pushed himself to his feet, kicking over a pile of stale beer cans and scattering them across the porch. A few of the cans rolled off the porch and clattered to the dried out grass that was their front lawn. "Sit there 'til the cows come in. He's a piece o' shit and he don't wan'chu. Best get used to it."

Daryl waited until the sun ducked out of sight and the fireflies came out to dance around the clapped out mustang that sat rusting on their side property. He got to his feet, tugging at his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. The card he'd made was left on the step, its edges dog-eared and worn from being manhandled through the day. He stooped down and picked it up, his eyes flicking over the drawing of himself sitting proudly on top of Merle's Chopper. He considered tearing it up, but instead he leaned it against the broken leg on the railing in case his Dad came after he'd gone to bed. Turning his back on it he sighed and shuffled inside.

He woke later feeling fuzzy and disoriented but rested for the first time in weeks. The

Sun told him of the passage of time; the bright thin rays had been replaced by a fat muted glow that warmed the room. He rubbed his crusty eyes and looked towards the sound that had eased him out of his sleep. Judith had draped her wet nightshirt over one of the desk chairs to dry and he cringed at the bloody marks that stained the material. The little girl sat on the floor next to the desk sorting the contents of a jar into two bowls. She had dressed herself in a pair of pink jeans and one of his sweaters, the neckline hanging off her left shoulder. He frowned at her bare feet.

Slowly, Daryl sat up, his hand immediately moving to his injured side. Judith caught the movement and looked up at him, her face impassive. She looked down at the Styrofoam bowls before her uncertainly, catching her lower lip in her teeth.

"C'mere," Daryl motioned with his hand that wasn't holding his side. "Bring them socks from yer bag." She pushed herself to her feet and padded across the room, though he noted that she kept glancing back at the food. "Hungry?" He asked, wondering how long he had been asleep.

Judith remained tight-lipped as she approached him, both her hands wrapped around the small ball of socks. He took them from her and motioned with his chin for her to take a seat on the couch. She climbed onto the couch and settled on his shins. "One time, in the winter, there was a boy, and he went outside without no shoes. A snake come up on him, slitherin' real quiet." Daryl told her, lifting her feet into his lap while he spoke. "He was fixin' to bite the boy," he looked up to find Judith watching his hands as they eased the socks over one of her heels. "But then the concrete stopped him. It said, don't bother. I'll get him."

Judith looked up skeptically. "Ain't no snakes can't talk," she frowned.

Daryl let go of her feet and reached out, sliding his hands under her arms. He lifted her and pulled her to sit on his lap. "It's a story. Means you gotta keep yer feet warm," he explained, closing the blanket around them. The small smile that he offered her went unreturned and he felt concerned at her slumped posture.

"Is snowing 'gain," she informed him, pushing back her bangs and looking over her shoulder towards the window. "Beanie'll get losted," Judith sighed, looking down at her lap, her small hands twisting around themselves nervously.

"Watcha got over there?" Daryl asked, attempting to change the subject. He jutted his chin towards bowls on the floor.

Judith looked over at the bowls. "Is veg'ables," she explained, climbing off his lap, her eyes fixed on his exposed side. Daryl looked down too to see that the skin had taken on a reddish inflamed look around the edges of the glue. He watched her step closer and grasp the hem of his shirt then work it down until it covered the injury. Her eyes flicked up to meet his for a moment before she turned around and made her way over to the bowls of food.

While she was occupied Daryl pulled his shirt up again to inspect his side more carefully. He considered that if he'd been in the right mind he wouldn't have taken the time to clean it out the day before. He hadn't gotten a good look at the knife that the boy had attacked him with, so he wasn't sure what kind of risk for infection he was looking at. He felt the wound and didn't find any heat, so he deduced that the inflammation was likely due to irritation from the chemicals.

He looked up to see Judith making her way over to him, both her hands occupied by holding a bowl of food. Her face showed her concentration as she tried to balance the bowl without spilling any of its contents. She finally looked up at him when he accepted the bowl from her once she was close enough. His hands were stained red with blood that had dried around and under his fingernails, mixed with dirt. The little girl tilted her head and then silently went over to the trailer door. She rose onto her toes to unlock the bolt and then eased the door open slowly, her eyes scanning the surrounding camp. The cold air whipped through the crack and whipped around the room. When she turned around her hands were full of snow, which she promptly brought over to him and laid in his hands before returning to the door to lock it again.

A small smile touched his lips as Daryl used the snow to clean his hands off. When he was finished Judith was already back over by the desk, sitting on the floor, eating the assorted vegetables.

"Gonna go on a hunt later… see what I can find," he told her, watching her shove the food into her mouth with both hands, peas and corn raining back into her bowl in her haste.

She looked up at him then and swallowed. "Beanie?" She asked, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

"I'll head back the way we came so as I can get her," Daryl assured her.

Judith suddenly leapt to her feet and ran over to him, colliding with his chest, her arms thrown around his neck. Daryl let out an 'oof' as she jarred his side and held his bowl out to the side to avoid having his food scattered. His knee-jerk reaction was to scold her, but he bit back the tongue lashing; she'd seen enough of his temper today. "I comin'?" She asked, sitting back on her feet to look at him, her knees jabbing into his stomach.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "Best you stay here," he decided. He didn't want to take her back out into the cold in case she got sick again, not to mention if he had a run-in with Rob; he might not be able to protect her if they got in a fight. And he didn't want her to see him win either, she'd seen enough with Garret. She had plenty of food for a couple of days, and the camp was apparently deserted. He would be gone too long anyway, just a few hours tops. He was hopeful that he would find some meat for them.

"I go stay here alone?" Judith asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

He placed the bowl on the back of the couch and took hold of both his shoulders, pushing her back in one smooth motion. "You gotta stay. Be real quiet and go ta sleep. I'm gonna be back by mornin'."

Judith nodded her head and climbed off him. She stood close to him and watched him closely as he got to unsteady feet. The pain in his side was sharp, but bearable if he didn't breathe too deeply or twist his side. The rational side of him knew that he should give it a few days before venturing out, but the other side - that was apparently a fucking idiot, was determined to go out and get Judith's doll like he had promised. He had barely known his own father, and the few memories that he did have were mired in the sting of disappointment that came with broken promises.

Daryl packed lightly to go out on his hunt, taking only what he could carry in his pockets. He checked his side-arm and slid it into the small of his back. It would be shit for hunting, so he'd probably end up using his knife if he came across anything. He missed the crossbow that he'd left behind at the prison when he had escaped with Judith. They had never come across another one; he figured the Governor had cleaned out all of the weapons from the surrounding area.

Judith had climbed onto the couch, worn out from the emotional upheaval and all of the walking from the day. She'd tucked herself into the cushions, her cheek resting on the collar of his sweater, her eyes drifting closed.

"Stay inside, do what I told ya, y'hear?" He asked, fixing the blanket over her shoulder. She nodded a little, though she didn't open her eyes. Slowly, he backed out of the trailer, hoping she'd just sleep through the night.

XXXXX

His Grandmother kept trying to feed him. She'd scold him for being too skinny and then offer him everything in her cupboards, pantry, and fridge - sometimes twice. At almost ten he was smaller than most of the kids in his new class, but he didn't care. He could fight as good as any of them, better in fact. He'd already bloodied a couple of noses and he'd only been there less than a month.

Daryl sat at the kitchen table, arms crossed, staring stubbornly at the mashed potatoes and minced pork that had long since cooled, the drippings and gravy congealed on the edges of the plate. Grandma had her back to him as she pounded the roast for tomorrow night, her hammer swinging high and back down to smack the meat, the motion slinging chunks of raw beef all over her shirt and the cabinets.

"If you let that good meal go to waste," she was muttering with each strike of the tenderizer. "I'll use this on yer backside. I ain't playin' wit'chu, Daryl. Ain't gonna come up in my house and waste my food, not when you got starvin' babies in Africa."

Sighing, the ten-year-old picked up his fork and jabbed at the meat on his place.

"Get yer damn appetite from yer Father's side. I'd bet on that. Damn lazy son'o'bitch, never did a damn thing, y'know. Drove yer Ma to the drink," she ranted, pounding the meat harder. "Brother didn't help much, neither. Good for nothin' juss' like yer Father."

Daryl kept his eyes trained on his plate as he stirred the potatoes and gravy.

"June, would'ja leave that boy alone," his Grandfather yelled from the other room over the sound of the television, the springs in his recliner snapping as he shifted. "Kid just lost his Ma and yer gonna tar him like…" his voice trailed off, buried under the sound of a studio audience clapping and cheering.

Getting up slowly, Daryl slipped off his chair and walked quietly towards the door, leaving his Grandmother to yell at the roast some more. He slipped his shoes on, winced as his toes crunched up inside them, and then made his way outside, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. He picked his way around the back of the small dilapidated house, his eyes sweeping the edge of the ridge on the far side of the property where it fell away into thick old growth forest. Sometimes he wished he could take off into the woods and never come back. He'd eat squirrel and build a fort out of bark and branches and he'd never think about Merle, Daddy, his Ma, or Grandma ever again.

The moon was hung high in the night sky, its chilly glow peeking at him through the full branches of the snowy Evergreens. He did a sweep of the cabins that were in varying stages of disrepair, their crumbling walls looming in the crystal moonlight.

Daryl picked his way over the glittering snow, his feet kicking up the freshly fallen top layer. Flakes continued to falter to the ground as the gentle wind shook them loose from the canopy of trees above him. He looked to his side, missing the sound of Judith's small feet plowing through the snow. It felt like January with its crisp still cold that failed to hold the bitter edge of February.

The cabins had been pillaged, their wooden floors crusty and littered with leaves that had blown in through doors that hung off creaky hinges. The path around the last cabin led him out of the camp and looped around towards the break in the clearing where they had come in. He moved slowly, his hand holding his sufferingside in a poor attempt to lessen the pain that the cold seemed to intensify. He kept his eyes trained on the shivering woods around him, looking for any movements that could indicate danger or an animal to hunt. He knew that it was unlikely that he would find anything this close to the camp, not with his recent luck.

Daryl winced with each step, berating himself for being stupid and going out in his current condition. Part of himself wanted to turn around and screw the damn doll, but then he'd think of the way Judith's face had lit up when he'd promised to bring it back; the way she'd thrown her arms around his neck and clung to him, trusting him not to break her heart. He slipped his hands inside his pockets to keep them warm as he trudged through the snow, his chest rising and falling with each painful step. He followed what was left of their tracks; the indentations had been filled in with fresh snow through the day.

He walked with his head down, his chin and cheeks buried into the collar of his coat. His eyes felt as though they had formed a thin layer of ice that broke each time he blinked and his breath had thinned out into strained gasps. His head was stuffed full of cotton balls, and he couldn't think clearly. He walked on autopilot, his hand wrapped around the blade of his knife, losing track of time and space.

XXXXX

"Merle, you shithead," Daryl banged on the trailer door, his fisted hand frozen numb after the short walk to the backyard where his older brother's trailer sat up on blocks. "Lemme in."

He stepped back as the door screeched open and his older brother peeked his head out, the smell of weed clinging to his clothes. Daryl stepped around him and climbed up the rusty step to enter the trailer. "Smells like shit in here," he sniffed, looking around at the trash scattered across every surface except the bed where Merle's titty magazines were twisted up in his sleeping bag.

"Then get the fuck out," Merle slumped down on the bench where he'd been using a beer can as an ashtray for his joint. "She bein' a bitch again?" He asked, nodding for Daryl to take a seat across from him.

Daryl swiped crumbs off the seat before sitting on it, slumped in on himself. He reached over to pick up the beer can and sniffed its contents, frowning. "Yeah," he muttered, sighing, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother's. "We could run away," the suggestion slipped out of his mouth and he cringed.

"Don't be no fuckin' idiot," Merle reached over to shove his younger brother's shoulder, slamming him into the backrest. "Get that damn thought outta yer head. This is the best place for yeh." His thick fingers reached for the package of cigarettes on the table, this thumb sliding under the lid to prop it open. Using his lips he lifted one out and lit it with a Zippo. The metal frame of the lighter had a black Eight pool-ball on it that reflected the light from the bare bulb hanging above them.

Daryl reached for the lighter when Merle put it on the table and turned it over in his palm. "If this thing's such good luck then why're you still livin' in this shit-hole?" He asked, tracing the eight with the pad of his thumb.

"Maybe the guy I took it off o' used it all up. Walked away with his face intact didn' he?" Merle took long drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the beer can. He ran his tongue over his front teeth, tasting the nicotine residue. "Tell ya what. You hang on to that. Let me know if it's got any luck left in'nit."

Daryl nodded slowly, sliding the Zippo into his pocket. "Do you miss mom?" he asked, keeping his eyes carefully on the table.

"Ole' bitch never did nothin' for me," Merle muttered, lighting another cigarette, this time using a book of matches from the machine shop he was working at on weekends as a requirement for his probation.

XXXXXX

"Yer such an ass," Daryl muttered. The sound of his own voice startled him and he blinked, swallowing hard as he stopped walking. He found himself standing a few feet away from the logging tractor that he and Judith had found the day before, with no recollection of how he had made it this far. His head ached in a slow pounding rhythm, like the sound of someone swinging a… meat tenderizer. Daryl's eyes narrowed and he looked around him in confusion. He was met with translucent silence.

Turning back around he fought his swaying vision and tried to fix his eyes on the small lump in the snow. He stumbled towards it and braced his hand on the side of the tractor as he lowered himself to his knees. Beanie's arm was reaching for him and he moved to take hold of her, but instead of grasping the squishy limb his hand passed through it. "Jesus," he mumbled, squinting his eyes and trying again, this time bringing the double image into focus. His fingers connected with their intended target and he pulled her free from her snowy grave. Her marker eyes had smeared, creating black tear drops that dripped down her cheeks. She fit into his pocket with his knife, though her legs dangled free.

As he pulled his hand out his fingers touched something small and cold. Slowly, he eased the metal case out of his pocket and stared at the small black Eight ball. Daryl flicked open the lid and turned the rough flint wheel with his thumb. He'd forgotten he still had it in his pocket. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the snow seeping into the fabric of his jeans, numbing his legs.

Suddenly, icy fingers closed around his shoulders and he was met with the smell of putrid rotting flesh. Sharp teeth grazed the thin skin of his neck and he pushed backwards with his elbow, knocking the Walker's hands off him. The corpse fell onto its back, still reaching for him. Daryl pulled out his knife then looking around him to find more black figures filtering through the trees, faceless shapes staggering and growling. Daryl's vision swam and he looked around helplessly. His eyes settled on the tractor beside him. He lunged forward, stepping on the fallen Walker's face. Its skull gave in under his weight with a crunch and it went still.

Daryl pulled on the frozen door desperately as the Dead closed in on him. With a hard wrench he broke the icy seal and scrambled inside then slammed it closed again, wincing as his side split open again. Blood oozed out, soaking through his shirt in minutes. He divided his attention between trying to stop the bleeding and the dozen or so hands that pounded on the glass, fingernails clawing at the metal.

He laid his head back as agony swept over him, along with overwhelming nausea and dizziness. The black cloud started in the corner of his vision and crept inwards, inky and unrelenting. When he gave into it the pain dulled and then he was floating, caught in a place between awake and dreaming. It was in this place that he saw them, a flash of blue eyes.

-We could run away together. -


	7. Chapter 7

The small settlement in the middle of the woods appeared like an oasis for the tired couple. The young man had looped his arm around his wife's and he held her up the best he could. She offered him an exhausted smile and her head dropped to rest on his shoulder as her hand slid down over his forearm, her fingers tangling up in his. Her other hand moved over to caress the gentle swell of her pregnant belly. She'd recently started feeling the baby move and she waited with eager anticipation for each time the light flutter came. "Maybe we should push through," she suggested softly. "The meeting point isn't too far from here, and we're already behind."

Her husband turned his head to look at her using his good eye while the one closest to her stared lifelessly ahead, milky, damaged, and unseeing. "He'll wait," he said decidedly. "I want to leave enough distance between us and that herd."

She nodded, her eyes flicking over the trampled snow before them. They had picked the herd off one-by-one until there was only about a dozen or so left. Eventually their group would meet up, closing the Dead off and then they would put the remaining ones down all at once. "I hope they found somewhere safe to have the baby," she mused, inspecting the buildings that sat in a clustered semi-circle.

The man beside her nodded towards the only intact building- a trailer that sat on an elevated platform off to their right. His wife paused, pointing to the footprints that led up the steps. "Some of the herd could've strayed off," he mused, unclipping his knife from his belt, deciding that it would be better to take care of them as silently as possible.

"They don't close doors behind themselves," the pregnant woman helped him to slide his weapon and bag off his shoulder. She lowered everything to the floor and looked nervously at the building. "Maybe we should push through," she repeated. "Could be that group from the south."

He didn't answer her, instead he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and crept forward, his feet feather light in the snow. She watched him go, her hand smoothing over their baby in a circular motion as she waited.

The wooden steps were creaky under his feet and he paused, noting the crimson stained snow on the railing. He listened for the sound of any movement inside, and hearing none, continued up the steps. The handle released under his hand and the door swung open, revealing an office space that had been inhabited not too long before. His eyes swept over the desks and cabinets, and then settled on two Styrofoam bowls stacked on the floor next to a couch. A blanket was draped over the cushions and the arm of the couch and he wondered what had chased the people off in such a hurry. It was possibly the herd moving through the area, though the room didn't look ravaged.

He spotted two backpacks next to the door and he squinted at the smaller pink one for a moment before turning around and stepping outside onto the porch. He waved his wife over then turned to search the surrounding camp for any sign of the people who had been staying here. Whoever they were, they seemed to be long gone - probably dead. He hoped they had some food. It had been too long since his family had had a decent meal.

When she came to the stairs he took his things from her and waited until she passed him. Once she was inside he followed her in and placed his bag and crossbow on the floor next to the door. He snapped the lock in place and watched his wife explore the room, her hands bracing her lower back. "Check for food," he nodded to the bags.

Her head turned first to look at him over her shoulder. Pink lips, chapped with cold turned upwards into a small smile, her large blue eyes filled with the shadows of the room. "I hope there are some peaches," she laughed softly. "I miss peaches the most."

The man's eyes rolled. "It was bacon last week. And salmon the week before that," he returned her smile and started to do a perimeter check to make sure the room was secure. He'd sleep better knowing it was locked up. "Like my mother," he said, his voice steady. "Remember? She was always wanting something."

"Cravings," the woman remembered, nodding. She shrugged and sighed when he didn't respond, then made her way over to the bags against the far wall. She started with the larger one and pawed through it. There were plenty of useful supplies but no food. She checked the small pink bag next and found several jars of preserved vegetables. The other pockets were mostly empty except the front one where she found a small knife and some slips of paper. Curiously, she pulled them out, her eyes widening at the discovery that they were two photographs. Her long blonde ponytail whipped over her shoulder as she held them up. "Carl."

Her husband lifted his head in alarm and then relaxed. He looked at the pictures in his hand curiously. "Almost had a Walker on your hands," he grumbled. "Scared me to death."

Beth pushed herself to her feet and made her way over to him, offering him the pictures in her outstretched hand. He took them from her, his eyebrows drawing together. "Why would someone have these?" He looked up at her then back down at the pictures. He stared at them in silence for a long time. When he finally spoke his voice was tight. "I'd forgotten what she looked like." Carl cleared his throat and looked at her for a split second before his gaze flicked away as he fought to bury the emotions. "How could I forget that."

His wife reached up to wipe off his cheek the stray tear that he hadn't even realized had fallen. Her hand slid over his cheek to cup his face, her own head tilting tenderly. The moment was interrupted by the sound of something shifting on the other side of the room. The couple froze and waited until the sound came again. Beth turned her head slowly to look towards the far corner of the room at the desk furthest away. She nudged her husband lightly in the arm and pointed to the leg of the desk. The underside was closed in on three sides, but the metal frame stopped a couple of inches shy of the floor where they could see the tips of tiny fingers sticking out.

Carl moved to step forward and she put her hand on his chest to stop him. "It could be a Walker," Beth said.

Her husband took her hand and led her back over to the couch. He picked up the crossbow from next to the door and settled the butt of it against his shoulder. Raising it, he stepped in front of his family protectively. "Come out," he ordered, aiming the sharp tip of the arrow at the top of the desk.

Brown hair appeared first, followed by blue eyes that peered over the edge of the desk. At first Carl wasn't sure what he was looking at, and then she blinked. Slowly, he lowered the crossbow. "Come out. We won't hurt you," he promised, placing the crossbow on the floor at his feet.

Beth gasped from behind him. "She looks like-."

Carl held up a hand to silence her. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the pictures that he had jammed into it. "These yours?" He asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't startle the little girl who nodded. "Where'd you get 'em?"

"Is my fam'bly," she told him, standing up so that the edge of the desk was at the same level as her chest. "Are you keep it?" She asked, pushing her bangs back off her forehead.

Carl felt tears well up in his eyes but he swallowed them back. Beth's hand came to rest on his elbow and he looked over at her briefly before lowering himself to his knees. "You can have it back," he told her, holding the picture out. "Maybe you can show it to me sometimes."

Judith stepped around the desk and cautiously made her way over to him, her gun cradled in her hands. She watched him warily, her eyes flicking between the picture and his face. When she was close enough she snatched the picture and took a hasty step backwards so that she was out of his reach.

"Are you here alone?" Carl asked her, looking over her long brown hair and the freckles on her nose. Her eyes were blue, identical to his own and their father's. When she remained silent he tried again. "Is anyone with you… Judith?" He tried the name out loud that he had picked what felt like a lifetime ago.

Judith sighed, frowning, her chin dropping. "Daryl go'ed ta get Beanie but not since a long time he didn't come'd back." Her lower lip trembled and she looked down at the floor, her eyes glistening with a hint of tears.

Carl reached for her, startling her and she stepped further away, her hands positioning themselves on the gun. He froze, holding his hands up. "Woah," the young man sat back on his calves. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you… I just want to help you."  
The little girl's eyes showed her distrust and she looked him over suspiciously, the barrel of her gun pointed to the ground. "I wan' Daryl," she whimpered.

"I can help you find him," Carl promised. "My name is Carl… I'm your brother. The boy in the picture, that's me."

Judith looked skeptical at his assertion and juggled her gun awkwardly before she slipped it under her arm. With her hands free she looked between the picture and Carl, and then shook her head. "Yer lookin' not like that one," she finally concluded.

"Because I'm older now," he explained.

Her face lit up when she remember what Daryl had taught her about the word 'older'. "'Cause ya gotted more years on ya," she explained. "That means older."

A warm smile touched Carl's lips. "That's right." He inched his way towards her, holding her gaze. Once he was close enough he raised one hand, his fingers trembling as he removed the gun from her arm, careful not to startle her again. Wide eyed, she watched him, her mouth composed into a straight line. "Can I hug you?" he asked, tilting his head so that he could see her face.

"What that means?" Judith asked, holding the pictures out of his reach.

Carl eased his arms around her and guided her to his chest. She fit neatly against him, though her body remained tight and rigid. "Like this," he whispered into her ear.

After a moment she slid her arms around his shoulders and allowed him to lift her. Awkwardly, Carl got to his feet and Judith wrapped her legs around him, her hold tightening as though she didn't trust him not to drop her. Stepping backwards he he settled on the couch with Judith on his lap.

Beth took a seat beside them, tears sliding down her cheeks as she watched her husband get acquainted with his little sister. "Your dad is going to be so happy," she told him, her voice filled with emotion.

XXXX

Daryl watched through a thick haze as the Walkers were torn away from the cracking glass. The window over his right shoulder had caved in but nothing came through it. He turned his inky gaze down to his side where blood was steadily soaking through his side. Numb hands fumbled uselessly with his coat zipper but he couldn't seem to grasp it. The door beside him clicked and groaned as it swung open, shaking a small avalanche of snow free. He stabbed at the hands that reached for him until they closed around his wrist and ripped the small knife from his weak fingers.

"It's okay. We're not going to hurt you," a male voice assured him and Daryl froze as he recognized it. The face that he knew belonged to the voice appeared in his line of vision, though it was much more worn - aged beyond its years. Rick Grimes- the thought felt like he'd been socked in the gut. "Jesus, Daryl?"

Daryl's eyes swept the man before him as he struggled to understand what he was feeling; a combination of joy and fear, overwhelmed by the fear and adrenaline that had not yet left his system. He shoved the man's hands back, breaking their contact and he pushed himself free from the icy plastic seat of the logging machine. Stumbling out into the snow he landed on his hands and knees, sputtering with pain and words that jammed inside his throat like a fist.

Rick took a step back, settling heavily on his back foot, his hands resting on his hips in a habit that clearly died hard. "Jesus, Daryl," he repeated the words as though they had never been uttered before. His blue eyes flicked to the ground at his side and his face crinkled with emotion. Daryl followed his line of sight to find that Beanie had fallen from his pocket. The doll lay on her back, splayed out on the snow.

Rick's composure faltered as he looked around him, his eyes sweeping the dozen or so Walkers that he'd slain, their corpses oozing stinking black blood that looked like oil sprayed across the snow. "Where is she?" He asked, his hand coming up to thread his fingers through his hair. "W-where?" He swept the woods around them, his chest rising and falling, his eyes guarded as he visibly prepared for the worst.

Daryl reached for Beanie, his bloodied fingers wrapped around her chest, squeezing her underneath his grip. Grunting, he pushed himself upright, though he remained on his knees, bowed before the man before him, watching him crumble. Suddenly, Rick was on his knees too, his chest pressed to Daryl's, his fingers wrapped around his throat like a vice. "Where is she?" he screamed.

Daryl shoved the other man back, using his fist as a weapon. It collided with soft thwack against Rick's cheek, knocking the man onto his side. ``Where were you?" Daryl demanded, pushing himself to his feet. He stumbled backwards and tried to brace himself on the window of the machine, though his hand, slick with blood had no traction. He slid across it and landed on the ground again.

The two men stared at one-another, the woods silent besides the sound of their own panting breaths. Daryl winced again and tore his eyes away from Rick.

"Were you bit?" Rick asked, knee-walking over to his former second-in-command. He pushed Daryl's hands to the side and unzipped his coat.

Daryl shook his head. "Stabbed. Some jack-ass kid," he let his head fall back against the door behind him as Rick pulled open his coat and the cold air rushed in. The sudden blast helped to clear his head and the fog lifted a little.

Rick worked quickly over the wound as he applied pressure using his bare hands in an attempt to stem the flow. "I need something, a plastic bag. One second." He pushed himself to his feet and trudged away towards a hastily thrown pack. Daryl noted the other man's heavy limp and the way he favoured his right side. The way he crouched down, his hand bracing his right leg as he fell awkward to the ground. When he returned he had a plastic disposable lunch bag of some sort. As he brought it closer Daryl could smell it and he turned his face away, it reeked like-

"It's all I have," Rick offered him an apologetic look that relaxed Daryl. Perhaps the man had not changed that much. "I've been using it to keep my feet dry… I would-," he trailed off and unwrinkled the plastic.

"S'fine," Daryl muttered, biting back a groan as Rick wrapped the bag over his wound then dug through his pocket before pulling out a roll of silver duct tape. "She ain't dead… least not the last time I seen her," he ground out.

Rick's hands froze for a moment and his eyes stayed glued to Daryl's side. After a few beats he continued taping, his jaw ticking. "I came…" he said. "We all did… those of us who made it out." He shook his head. "They held us… for days. I-I could barely stand when he escaped… but we came and you weren't there."

"I went back every day," Daryl told him, dropping his chin to rest it against his chest. "We had to move on. There weren't no food left and-," he slid his shirt down to cover the make-shift bandage.

Their eyes met and a moment of understanding and forgiveness passed between them.

"Will you take me to her?" Rick extended his hand.

Daryl nodded, accepting the help up. "Hurts like a son'o'bitch," he grunted, wrapping his arm around his side. "You alone?"

Rick picked up his bag as they passed it. He fished around in the back pocket and pulled out a small fluorescent green arrow which he propped up against a tree, pointing in the direction that they were heading, the mark mostly concealed by snow.

"That for?" Daryl asked, nodding towards the arrow.

"Glenn and Maggie will be coming from the east," Rick answered simply, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Carl and Beth from the west," they fell into line with each other, shoulder to shoulder as they followed Daryl's tracks back towards the logging village. It was close to dawn now; the forest was will cast in thick shadow, but the sky had lightened to an Air Force blue. Daryl was hopeful that the sun would be warm enough to melt some of the snow.

"Andrea? Merle?" Daryl asked, keeping his eyes trained on ground before him.

The look Rick gave him was a telling one. The ex-deputy's shoulders sank and he sucked in a breath. "Aren't really sure," he said after a moment. "Haven't seen them since everything went down at the prison."

Daryl nodded and continued in silence, too weak to carry on the conversation any further. The wooziness that he had experienced earlier was back, swinging him like a pendulum and his stomach roiled. He kept his gaze fixed ahead for the most part, but occasionally he would glance to his side to assure himself that his company was not some phantom that he had created.

They came to the small community and Daryl paused, his eyes raking over the trampled snow. Something had come through here, and it hadn't come alone. He identified at least a dozen or so different treads on his first count, and determined them to be left by Walkers based on their erratic and inconsistent pattern. "Judith," he muttered and broke out into a run, ignoring the glancing pain in his side. Rick was close on his heels, but Daryl reached the trailer first. The door was locked when he jerked the handle and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Judith!" he called to her.

The door creaked open and he faltered as an arrow touched the tip of his nose through the small crack.

"You got my girl?" Daryl asked, reaching for the knife in his pocket. "Judith?" he asked, swallowing hard at the fear that gripped him.

The arrow jostled unsteadily and then moved back as someone barged into the space between the person wielding it and the gap in the door. Daryl looked down to see a small face appear and tiny fingers wrapped around the edge of the metal frame. Judith's face lit up as she looked him over, and she elbowed her way onto the porch, her stocking feet sinking into the snow.

She barely made a noise above a whimper before she launched herself towards him, her arms wrapping around his knees as she buried her face into his legs. "I gotted scareded 'cause you not come'd back." Judith whispered, clinging to him tightly.

"C'mere," he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her to his chest. Her arms weaved around his neck and she buried her face into his neck. The snow crunched on the top step behind him and he felt Rick's otherwise silent presence. Judith stiffened and she held onto him tighter. "Is he gonna hurt us?" She asked, her breath hot on his ear. The door had swung open and a young man and woman stood there. He recognized Beth immediately, her blue eyes a dead give-away. The other person took a moment though. Long gone were the freckled nose, rounded face and awkward gangly limbs of the preteen that he had known years before.

"Carl," he greeted, holding Judith tighter to him as he stepped past the couple to enter the office space. Rick followed him in and the small group stood in a circle, all unsure of what to do next.

XXXXX

Daryl shifted Judith onto his uninjured side, the bulk of her slight weight settling onto his hip. She tightened her arms around his neck at the movement and buried her face further into his shoulder. He could tell that she was nervous around so many new faces, and though he wanted to reassure her, he was proud that she maintained her distance from the people who were only strangers to her. In her new position she settled against him heavily, her body going limp as she drifted off to sleep, content that he had returned in one piece. Her left arm released its hold and slid back around his shoulder then over his chest, its journey ending when she plugged her thumb into her mouth.

"I, uh," Carl ran his hand over the back of his head, his deep voice wavering with uncertainty as he looked between his sister and father. "Maybe we should just get some sleep," he suggested.

Beth chimed in with a smile. "That's a great idea. I think we could all use a good nights rest so we can-," her blue eyes rolled toward the ceiling as she considered her next word choice. "Process everything," she finally finished, offering a nod towards Daryl as she passed him to go to Rick. "Come on, dad," one slender hand rested against the man's shoulder.

"Ya'll take the couch," Daryl shifted the sleeping girl again. "I'm gonna take that corner," he nodded to the one next to the counters where he had found the superglue.

Rick nodded and patted Beth's cheek affectionately then took a step back, his chest rising and falling with carefully controlled breaths as he tore his stone grey gaze away from his slumbering daughter's back. They all caught the hint of tears in his eyes, though no one acknowledged them until his back was turned, when Carl shot Daryl a loaded look, his mouth held in a straight line.

"Guess we will take the couch then," Carl finally said, his voice even, his hand sliding into his wife's. "Do you have anything we can eat? Beth hasn't had anything all day."

Daryl nodded towards Judith's bag. "Don't take it all," he snagged his and Judith's blankets from the couch and headed towards the corner that he had claimed for them, then paused at the corner of the closest desk. "Ain't nothin' in'nit," he kept his back to them. "Just used'ta sleepin' with me, tha's all it is."

With his piece said, he walked the rest of the way to the other side of the room, his boots falling heavily in the otherwise silent and still trailer. Each footstep made the muscles in his neck and arms tense up as he felt the others watching his retreating back.

He tossed the first blanket to the ground and lowered her onto it, supporting her head as he had done when she was still a rag-doll infant. She whimpered and her dazed eyes opened, peering up at him in confusion. "Shh," he smoothed her bangs back. "Look here," Daryl kept his voice to a whisper. Beanie came free from his pocket with a simple tug and his heart lifted as Judith's eyes widened. The little girl snatched the toy from him and pulled her into a tight hug, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Beanie come'd back," her voice was hushed and muffled by the doll's wool hair and she snuggled her cheek into the brown strands, undeterred by the dirt and water stains.

Daryl toed his shoes off and then pushed his coat over his shoulders, leaving his discarded clothing in a pile on the floor. He ignored his blood-soaked shirt and laid down beside Judith, positioning her between himself and the wall, his back to the room. He could hear the couch springs squeaking as its occupants tried to arrange themselves on the narrow surface, and on the wall opposite him, he heard someone slide down to the ground.

Judith turned onto her side too and snuggled into his chest, Beanie squished under her curled arm. She sighed contentedly and fell asleep as Daryl pulled the second blanket over the top of them and tucked it in around her.

XXXX

The loose gravel crunched under his feet as he made his way around the fence of the inner prison yard, his crossbow dangling from his hand. The night held no danger that he could detect and his patrol felt more like a leisurely stroll than a search for any threat. The fence had held its ground against the Walkers that tore at its chain-link and the inhabitants of the prison felt a sense of security for the first time in days.

So far they hadn't seen or heard anything from the Governor or his people, and they were all hopeful that the other man had gotten the message clearly that they were not a group to be reckoned with.

His exterior sweep completed, Daryl headed back towards their cell-block where he would pass off his shift to Maggie. He was mentally exhausted from his turbulent thoughts about his brother and what had occurred between them since discovering Merle was alive. Maybe after a good night sleep he would be more equipped to process and compartmentalize all of the emotions that were bubbling just under the surface of his placid exterior.

As he approached the west entrance he heard a soft sound and looked up to the fenced in overpass that joined their block with another building. A male figure stood there, cast in shadows, something bundled up in his arms as he swayed slowly, side to side. The man's daughter's cried sounded like a kitten mewing into the night, but the sound was not solitary. It was accompanied by her father as he sang to her, his voice a ragged weave that broke as it left his lips. "Someday we'll all be gone… But lullabies go on and on... They never die. That's how you- And I…Will be…"

Daryl looked up at the pair and stepped into the shadows to avoid being seen. He watched as the other man began to pace alone the length of the overpass, from one end to the other, humming the tune that clung to hopelessness.

"I tried not to love you," he finally said. "What kind of a father thinks that way?" One hand scrubbed his eyes and he laughed softly. "I kept thinking that I made her have you. I told her that that wasn't what I was doing, but I was." Rick stopped to look down at the baby who had fallen asleep, her mouth closed around one tiny chubby fist.

"I was going to keep her safe… and you too. I was going to keep us together. I promised myself that," the man whispered, his words hitching on a small sob. "And I didn't tell her that I loved her… she d-d-died, and I didn't-," his next breath shuddered as he spoke, his shoulders shaking. "Please let me keep you."

Daryl swallowed hard and steeled his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. Slowly, he lowered his head and eased his way back into the night to do another sweep of the fence.

XXXX

After a while the sound of a soft purring snore drifted over the room from the couch, and Daryl's own breaths evened out, lulling him into the early stages of sleep. The floor beneath him was hard and unforgiving but the events of the day and lack of sleep were catching up to him, pulling him into unconsciousness.

Judith had flipped onto her back, her thumb hanging loosely from her mouth, her eyelashes a perfect curve, settled onto her cheeks like butterflies wings. She scrunched her nose slightly as she dreamed, but she slept peacefully and solidly as only children do, her face absent of fear or worry.

Over his shoulder he heard fabric rustling as Rick shifted and settled. Daryl assumed the other man to be asleep too, until a hushed gravelly voice, filled with despair caught his ear.

"I found her, Lori."


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl woke to his stomach growling at the smell of something cooking. He opened his eyes slowly and he stared ahead at the wall as they adjusted to the bright sun-lit room. His back and neck were stiff from sleeping on the floor and he made a mental note to set up the hammock for that night. He uncurled himself from his sleeping position, gradually stretching out his muscles as he listened to the sound of Judith's voice chattering from the other side of the room. As he sat up he realized that at some point in the night he had crammed Beanie under his head to use her as a pillow.

"Did you know'd that I could shoot real good?" Judith was asking as Daryl pulled himself to his feet, his hand moving to hold his side. He used the desk closest to him to stabilize himself as he looked around the room.

Judith had been washed and was crouched down between Beth's legs while the young woman braided the little girl's still damp hair. Beth's fingers folded the separated brown locks, easily twisting them into a thick rope.

The little girl didn't wait for a response to her question before she launched into another one. "Did you know'd that I could cook veg'ables too, and I could count. Wanna see?" She turned her head to look over her shoulder at Beth who placed her hand over the top of her head and faced her forward again. "One, two, three, four," Judith shifted impatiently and blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Five- Daryl!" She squealed when she spotted him. She moved to dart towards him but Beth held her in place.

"Hold on," Beth closed her hand around Judith's shoulder. "I'm not done yet."

Daryl shuffled around the desk and made his way over to the others. He passed Carl who was sitting on one of the desks skinning a squirrel with a hunting knife, the small carcass held expertly in his hands. The young man looked up at him and offered him a silent nod before turning his attention back to his task.

Looking to Rick next, Daryl glanced at the small gas one-burner that the other man was cooking on. Rick had cleaned up a bit too and changed his shirt, though the dirt and bloodstains in the cracks in his hands seemed to be a permanent fixture. A small pile of carcasses, rats and another squirrel lay on a piece of wax paper beside him. He found an arrow still lodged in the thick belly of a grey rat, the entry wound smooth and clearly practiced.

Immediately his eyes shot across the room to the crossbow tdhat had been propped up next to the door. The sight of it greeted him like an old friend and his feet moved towards it and he slipped his fingers through the trigger. Its weight felt familiar in his arms, even after time had parted him from it for too long.

"It's mine now," Carl spoke up, sliding off the desk, the pink exposed flesh of the squirrel draped over one of his hands. He dropped it onto the wax paper and scooped up the rat with the arrow. "Seems like time has a way of doing that… stealing things."

"Carl," Rick's voice was weary, as though the words he was about to speak had already been spoken too often. Before he could continue Carl stalked away, back to the desk and hopped onto it heavily. Rick's head dropped and he jabbed at the sizzling meat. After a moment he looked up at Daryl. "You're up first. Look like you could use some protein, help your body heal up that side of yours." Using the fork he skewered the meat and transferred it to a small wooden plate before holding it out to Daryl, his eyes barely meeting the other man's.

Daryl could see the shame in the crouched man's eyes and it made him feel uncomfortable. He took the plate and nodded as he turned to take a seat next to Beth on the couch. The blonde woman was securing the end of the braid with a purple hair-band from the package they had picked up months before. Daryl wondered if you could reuse them, or if it would be another supply that they would always be on the look-out for.

He looked over to the little girl who had gotten to her feet and turned around to face Beth, her face lit up as she babbled. "Did know you a train could do smoking? And could make that sound… like-," she paused, both to take a breath and to squint her eyes thoughtfully. "Daryl, what'd it go like 'gain?" she asked, making her way over to him to climb on his lap.

Daryl placed his bowl on the back of the couch and steadied the girl on his knee. He looked over to Carl who was watching him with stony grey eyes. Rick had stilled his movements and as well and Daryl could tell he was listening by the tilt of his head. Embarrassment crept over him and he turned back to Carl, his eyes meeting the boy's dead on.

"What does a train sound like?" Daryl challenged the younger man, keeping his features amiable.

"Uh," Carl looked to his wife first who glanced between the two men nervously. When she settled back on her husband she nodded, her eyebrows lifting as she offered him silent encouragement. "Chugga, choo, choo, woo woo." His voice was timid like a child's in school, afraid to get the answer wrong. As though we was afraid to fail.

Judith's face lit up and she bounced a little with excitement. "Thas' a good noise, don'cha think?" she asked, throwing herself back with glee, her freefall ending with a collision against Daryl's chest, where she looked up at him. She drummed her feet against his shins as she continued to stare at him wide-eyed.

"She eat meat?" Rick asked, clearing his throat. He held a plate in his slightly trembling hands, and he had twisted his upper body around to look at them.

"I could eated anythin'," Judith answered for herself and slid off Daryl's lap. She took the plate from Rick who didn't release it right away. He used the opportunity to get a good look at the little girl, his eyes shifting to a lighter blue as he inspected her freckled nosed and the shape of her mouth.

"You look just like your mother," he told her, his Adam's Apple bobbing with emotion.

Judith squinted again at his words and tilted her head. "You looks just liked my Pa," she decided before pulling the plate away from Rick's grasp and turning around to walk back to Daryl, her features settled into a concentrated expression as she maneuvered with the plate. She placed it on the floor before sitting down next to it, cross-legged.

"Maybe you can show him your pictures, Judith," Carl suggested, dropping the last of the prepared meat onto the paper next to his father. He accepted his own plate and took a seat on the floor beside her, his legs crossed in the same position. "I'm sure he would really like to see the one of his and mom's wedding."

Rick spun around at his son's announcement. "I- I thought he'd burned 'em all," he stammered, the sizzling grill forgotten as he scooted across the room.

Daryl caught Carl's mood shift and he watched curiously as his young features morphed at a clearly unpleasant memory. He looked wary of his father for a moment before he relaxed again.

"Can I see them?" Rick asked his face filled with a dimmed hope that was thirsty for replenishment. He reached out to her, though his hand froze in the space between them when she stiffened.

Judith shook her head slowly then turned to Daryl. Her hand closed over his knee and she climbed onto his lap again, burying her face into his chest as she curled up.

Rick deflated again and returned to the grill, his sunken and sagging form turned away from them all. Without another word he pushed himself to his feet and opened the door, stepping out into the bright early morning sunlight. The door closed behind him with a final click and they all winced at the sound as though some explosion would follow. Instead, there was only a reedy silence that settled over them like the fine tendrils of a spider's web.

"I should-," Carl moved to follow his father, but was prevented by his wife's hand on his arm. He looked to her and she shook her head, discouraging him. "Yeah," he sighed, removing her hand so he could pull her into a hug, his chin resting on her bony shoulder.

"You don't know how it's been," he said defensively, as though sensing an untouchable judgment from the man who held the youngest of them. "You don't know."

Daryl listened.

"When we went back to the farm… there were people there. They'd taken everything… they'd," Carl shook his head at a loss. "They'd…pillaged the place. Burned our clothes, our supplies- our albums. Dad, he couldn't stop talking about it, the whole way. Those damn albums." His shoulders slumped and he released Beth and got to his feet, his arms closed around the upper curve of her arms. He helped her up and deposited her onto the couch. "When we got there and found the mess and that guy, sitting there by the fireplace, burning what my dad left of her- he just lost it."

Beth accepted the plate of meat from her husband then took his hand and pulled him down beside her. "He made him-," she closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "He forced him to shoot himself. It was bad."

Daryl held Judith closer to himself. "Is he dangerous?"

Carl faltered but Beth answered confidently. "He would never hurt Judith. He would never hurt any of us."

XXXX

When Rick returned hours later he did not come alone. He bustled back into the trailer with his arms wrapped around a small toddler who had tangled up its pudgy fingers in his hair, his small gloved hands tugging on too long curls. The little boy, raw from the cold, his cheeks bright red and his nose running freely, was obviously from mixed heritage. Rick and the small boy were followed closely by Maggie and Glenn who watched the toddler closely through weary eyes. "Come in and warm up a bit, then we will make a plan," Rick told them, stepping to the side to let them pass him.

"Maggie!" Beth got to her feet and threw herself at her older sister. The two embraced for a few seconds before Maggie pulled back, her hand reaching out to rub the blonde's rounded belly tenderly.  
"Look at you," she marveled, her eyes softening.

Rick closed the door behind the couple and motioned for Glenn to put their things down next to his own. The toddler in his arms looked around the room curiously, his sea-green eyes searching the new faces.

Judith, who had been playing with Beth and Beanie on the couch, watched the small boy with an air of skepticism, her doll held carefully to her chest. She looked over the newcomers for a moment and then slid off the seat to make her way over to Daryl who was seated against the far corner where he had made their bed the night before.

Beth took her nephew from Rick and the two sisters took a seat on the couch while Maggie slipped off her boots and curled her toes, mumbling about frost bite. Daryl watched the group move around each other as they settled in, their actions synchronized in a way that only happened when people spent an extended amount of time together.

Judith had taken a seat next to him and wrapped herself up in her blanket. They observed like foreigners in a place where they did not quite understand the common-tongue, unsure of how to proceed. "That sure is small?" Judith finally asked, tearing her eyes away from the toddler who was standing on Beth's lap, his back to them.

"Yeah," Daryl answered her, looking down to take in her curious expression.  
Judith squinted up at him and then smiled. "It's a Beanie?" she asked, flexing her toes.

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, it's a baby," he corrected her then turned back to look at the group. "Damn rabbits up in here, between that one and the other. Ain't these people never heard o' keepin' it in their pants?"

Judith's lips pursed before she turned her eyes forward again, perplexed by his statement. "Is their pants gotted off?" she asked after a moment, moving into a crouched position so she could crawl forward to peer at the baby again more closely.

Daryl watched her slowly make her way back over to the group. She kept her distance from Rick by skirting along the wall, Beanie secured under her arm. "What's it's named?" She asked when she was standing next to Beth, one hand resting on the woman's knee.

"This is Ben," Beth turned the toddler around so that he could sit on her lap. "And that's Maggie, and Glenn. Maggie is my sister and Glenn is her husband, and Ben's daddy."

Judith's brow furrowed at the new information but she remained quiet, her head tilted as she inspected the younger child. "I don't like it," she decided, reaching out to push the small boy away and off Beth's lap. Ben protested with a loud cry and Judith froze, covering her ears. "Shut yer trap, y'hear?" she scolded the young boy.

Beth's eyes flicked to Daryl. "Sounds just like someone else I know." Her light-hearted accusation was met with a slight shrug from the man who remained on the other side of the room.

"I could sitted there," Judith pointed to Beth's lap.

Beth passed Ben off to his mother's open arms and accepted Judith into his former place. Maggie watched the small girl with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Okay," Beth agreed, turning Judith's shoulders around so she could see her face. "You can sit here, but you can't just hit people. It isn't nice."

The little girl scoffed and slid her arms around Beth's shoulders, refusing to look in Ben or Maggie's direction.

The group unanimously agreed that they would stay a few more nights in the camp. Maggie and Glenn reported that they hadn't found much in the east other than ransacked ghost-towns. They agreed that they would head south after Maggie and Glenn had a chance to rest up and Daryl was more healed.

The meeting held an air of urgency that Daryl was struggling to process and adapt to. He had become accustomed over the years to doing whatever was necessary to ensure his and Judith's safety without any discussion or negotiation. It was clear that Rick was still the leader of the others, though Daryl could sense a tension between the man and his son. Carl spoke confidently about his opinions and expressed them in such a way that demanded attention and respect. Daryl could admire that in the young man, though he resisted becoming enchanted by his authoritarian tone. He knew that if it came down to it that he was not above leaving with Judith and letting the rest of them march off to their deaths. He had promised Rick that he would take care of her, even if that meant protecting her from the men who shared her DNA.

When their meeting broke he got to work setting up his hammock by hammering nails into the walls. The others looked on with uncertainty but he continued his work, ignoring them. If he was going to be fit for travel he would need to get a good nights sleep.

He settled into the hammock with Judith and turned his back to the room, blocking out the shuffling sounds and whispers as everyone settled in for the night. Rick took his same spot under the window, just a few feet away from where Judith slept curled up in the hammock with the man who had been her guardian and care-giver through most of her young life.

Daryl listened as the sounds of even breathing and light snoring filled the room. Ben whimpered in his sleep but didn't cry and eventually succumbed to his mother's shushing. He waited for the sound of Rick's voice, calling to Lori again, but it did not come. The room remained silent around him and he looked down at Judith, her fingers curled loosely around his hand as she slept deeply.

Morning came hard and fast with a bright burst of sunlight that sliced across his eyes when he opened them. He couldn't even remembered falling asleep the night before, or waking at all during the night. Raising one arm he blocked out the sun's rays and looked around the room, only to find it empty. Quickly, he leapt from the hammock as his still sleep-muddled brain tried to interpret the silent empty room. The blankets were gone, along with the bags and boots.

Hastily he threw his coat over his shoulders and bolted out the door into the cloudless brilliant morning, his heart hammering in his chest. "Judith!" He called out into the woods around him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he listened to the mute old growth trees. His voice echoed off their thick trunks then fired back at him obnoxiously.

"Judith!" he tried her name again and turned around, searching for any sign of her. Tears prickled in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control over his body. A weight settled over his chest, crushing his ribs as he struggled to draw in one wheezing breath and then another. Barefoot, he cut his way into the centre of the camp, beyond feeling the cold that numbed his toes.

As he reached the centre of the camp he heard one voice, and then another from over his shoulder. Spinning around he saw figures begin to trickle through the trees. Carl came first, the crossbow held steadily before him as he swept the area, a pair of sunglasses protecting his good eye. Maggie followed closely behind, Ben strapped to her back and she carried her bag, overflowing with wet clothing and blankets. Judith and Beth were next, the little girl holding onto the pregnant woman's hand as she chattered, her sweet voice barely containing her excitement as she recounted something. Rick and Glenn were last, the latter bearing heavy bags while the former watched the rear.

They all froze at the sight of the man on his knees in the middle of the camp, his face twisted in anger while his eyes belied his devastation.  
Slowly, Carl lowered his crossbow.

Daryl charged towards them, his face reddening with the cold and his own uncontained emotions. He pushed past Maggie and Carl and scooped up Judith in one easy motion, his strong arms holding the surprised girl to his chest and he buried his face into her hair.

"We went to do laundry," Beth piped in, reaching out to rest a hand on Daryl's arm in a gesture of comfort.

He responded by taking a step back, shrugging her off in the process. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he demanded, lifting Judith's legs to wrap them around his waist. "Takin' off with her, not even tellin' me."

"You were sleeping," Carl stepped in defensively. "Calm down, man."

"Don't'chu ever tell me ta' calm down. Y'all don't get ta' come back 'round and do what'cha wanna do," turning around he stomped back to the trailer. "Screw you all."

He entered the small office space and set Judith on a desk. Immediately he began to move around the room, shoving their things into their backpacks, his breath barely deep enough to feed his hungry lungs.

"Daryl," Rick came into the room alone and closed the door behind him, leaving the rest of the group outside.

Daryl ignored the other man as he zipped his bag shut and rammed his numb bare feet into his boots.

"Daryl," Rick tried again, this time coming to standing beside the agitated other man. He reached out to touch Daryl's arm.

Daryl's hand flexed and he was barely able to contain his urge to hit Rick. He looked up and their eyes met, close enough to see the tears that they both held back. "Y'all think y'all can come 'round and just-," his chest heaved again and he took a step back. "Think y'all can just take 'er like I ain't even here."

Rick shook his head, dropping his arm until he could rest his hand on his hip. "We don't think that." He paused. "I don't think that."

Daryl swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and turned his back on the other man. He looked over to Judith who watched the interaction, her face calm as though she was patiently waiting for him to give her instructions. He made his way over to the small girl and lifted her to him, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

"I can't say I don't… I can't say I don't want-," he waved his hand in his daughter's direction. "that," he finished after a moment, his head tilting. "I would give anything to go back and take all that time back," he shifted on the balls of his feet as he turned to look out the window. "I know it ain't fair on you."

Daryl waited for Rick to continue, but the other man remained silent as he reached up to hold the back of his neck.

"I need time," he finally said after a long pause. "I need time to figure out how to put it back together." When he turned around his eyes were wet and red. "I'm grateful to you for giving me this chance to."

XXXX

The sound of creaking on the porch outside woke him from a dead sleep and he sat up, his eyes searching the dark around him. He looked at the faces of the others to see if any of them had been disturbed from their sleep, but none moved. He pushed the thin sheet that he had been using off him and got easily to his feet, careful not to step on Carol who had taken the spot next to him beside the back door of the small cabin. It had started to rain during the night and the room felt like a sauna, stinking like ass and Walkers.

The bitter cold winter had dropped away suddenly into a muggy spring that made them feel sticky and damp all the time.

The wooden porch creaked again and Daryl checked the knife that he kept in his pocket. It was a lot easier to sleep with than his cross-bow, though that didn't mean he hadn't tried.

Before jumping to conclusions about what could be making the sound he counted the bodies in the room. Eight…

His eyes settled on the small twin bed in the corner and found it empty. Sighing, he climbed over scattered limbs and torsos, cringing when his foot connected with the side of Carl's head. The boy mumbled in his sleep and flipped over, throwing his arm over his face. Daryl made a note never to put the boy on guard duty; he slept like a rock. A horde of Walkers could be tearing the place apart and he'd still be snoring.

When he reached the door he eased it open and squeezed outside. He took a deep breath of the fresh air, but it was so thick with moisture that it wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped.

He looked around and spotted the previously M.I.A. member of their group with her back to him as she peered out into the night, her arms bracing her hips. She startled when he cleared his throat and whipped her head around.

"Jesus," Lori placed one hand over her heart and the other on her rounded belly. "You scared the shit out of me."

Daryl shrugged and pulled the door closed behind him. He took a few steps until he was at the edge of the porch where he leaned against a support beam. "Ain't no Walker gonna give ya a warning," he cleared his throat and spit onto the grass. "Gonna get'ch yerself killed sneakin' 'round out here. What ya doin' anyway?"

The pregnant woman sighed and began to pace slowly towards him, her movements heavy and slow. "Couldn't sleep," she offered him a sheepish smile and ran her hands over her tummy. "Baby is practicing for a future career in soccer."

He scoffed and turned around to face her, his back still resting against the pole. "More like in kickin' Walker ass. You seen this shit-hole?"

Lori's smile faltered and she dropped her chin. "A mother can dream, can't she?"

Realizing he had hit a sore-spot Daryl shrugged in response and watched her turn around and pace back in the other direction. When she reached the railing she lowered herself onto the wooden porch swing. Its rusty chains squeaked under her added weight as she settled against the backrest. She indicated the spot next to her and he reluctantly took it, though he was in the right mind to tell her to suck it up and go back to bed.

They sat in silence, listening to the crickets in the tall unkempt grass around them and stared at the warped boards that made up the porch.

"You ever felt a baby move?" She asked after a moment, looking over at him.

Daryl sucked his teeth. "I ain't into that kinda shit," he shook his head, though he couldn't keep his eyes from settling on the spot on her stomach where she kept rubbing.

"Last time I offer," she shrugged one shoulder and turned to look at her outstretched legs. She winced as she inspected her swollen ankles and feet.

"Alright, I guess," he agreed, though he kept his hands at his sides. Lori looked over, surprise registering on her face. "Ain't gotta be no big deal or nothin'." To prove his point he reached over and pushed her hand to the side, replacing it with his own. He didn't feel anything and his brow furrowed. "Well get on with it."

Lori laughed and placed her hand over his own. "If I was the one calling the shots we wouldn't be having this discussion. I would be in my bed."

"You assume I was talkin' to you," he huffed and started to pull his hand back. Before he could, he felt something large and round just against his wrist and move over the length of his palm.

"That would be a somersault," Lori filled him in, arching her back a little. "Maybe a gymnast," she mused, placing her hand next to his.

"Fuck that," Daryl sat back in his seat, his hands dropped to his side. "That there is gonna be the best ass-kicker this damn worlds ever seen."

XXXX

Daryl ran his tongue over his chapped lower lip and tasted blood from where it had split with the cold. He shuffled his feet on the steps to wake them up and cracked his stiff neck. He'd been on a self-declared watch for most of the night while the others slept inside. He knew it wasn't really necessary to keep an eye out for danger coming into the camp- he was more interested in who was going out. After the events of the day before, he hadn't been able to calm his uneasiness about leaving Judith alone with the others.

The door behind him opened and closed and he looked briefly over his shoulder to see Glenn stepping out onto the porch, a baseball cap pulled down over his forehead. The Asian man pulled on a pair of gloves as he took a seat next to Daryl on the small porch.

"Hey," he greeted simply, crossing his arms and resting them on his thighs.

Daryl nodded back in greeting, barely turning his face to see the man who had joined him.

"So, I can take over for a bit if you want to sleep," Glenn offered.

Daryl declined with a shake of his head. "Nah, I'm good."

The man beside him sighed. "You know that we didn't mean anything by it. We assumed you wouldn't mind the chance to sleep in a bit." He uncrossed his arms and pushed himself to his feet then descended the steps. When he reached the bottom his feet sunk into the snow and he turned around to face Daryl shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Daryl answered stubbornly.

Glenn sighed. "Judith's cute, huh?"

Daryl blinked at Glenn's chosen adjective. "Yeah, she's alright," he answered cautiously. Personally he did think she was pretty cute but in hell was he going to share that with anyone else. "She learns quick."

"You've done a good job, Daryl," Glenn's remark held a tone of pleading that immediately set Daryl on edge. "We can all see that. Rick especially," the Korean smiled warmly. "She's real cute."

"Already said that," Daryl grumbled. "You want watch? Take it." Using the railing he pulled himself to his feet and started for the door. A hand on his arm stopped him and he half turned to look at Glenn.

"Thanks for, you know, taking care of her and stuff… and for not running out on us. We're a stronger group with you." Glenn's released Daryl's arm and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Nodding, Daryl took a step back and then stepped inside the trailer. The room was pitch-black, though he could make out the shapes of its sleeping occupants in the tinted moonlight. He spotted Ben and Maggie against the far wall, the toddler curled into his mother's chest, her hair lassoed around his chubby hands. Carl and Beth still occupied the couch and were bundled up under a thick blanket, though Daryl could make out where the young man's hand rested on his wife's stomach.

The final occupant was not asleep in his regular spot under the window where Daryl expected to find him. Instead, he stood next to the suspended hammock, his head dipped low as he watched his daughter sleep. When Daryl got closer, Rick lifted his eyes and took a step back, his hands falling to his side.

"Go about yer business," Daryl offered, crouching down beside his bag. He pretended to dig through it for something to give Rick some more time. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the former deputy approach the hammock again and raise his hands so that he could reach inside.

"Will she wake up if I lift her?" Rick asked gravelly, uncertainly.

Daryl turned to sit against the wall, a clean t-shirt in his hands. "Sleeps like a damn rock or somethin'. Could kick her in the head and she'd just keep snorin'."

The father nodded and slid his arms under the little girl's back and knees. He lifted her easily and cradled her to his chest, his body swaying with her. In the backlit moonlight Daryl saw him press a kiss to Judith's soft forehead. "Lori used to sing this song to Carl. From that movie about the little elephant. I can't remember how it goes."

Daryl swallowed- a silent spectator in the shadows cast by the desk to his left.

"Baby mine, dry your eyes…" His voice cracked as he looked down at her. "I can't remember the words."

In her sleep Judith turned, burying herself into Rick's arm. Swinging her hand up she plugged her thumb into her mouth and whimpered in her sleep.

Daryl stood up and slid his coat off. He changed his shirt quickly and toed his wet boots off before going over to them. Rick took a step back to give him room to climb into the hammock and settle in. Daryl motioned for him to pass over the sleeping girl and they transferred her easily and without hesitation.

"Maybe one day she will let me do that when she is awake," Rick whispered.

Daryl closed his eyes and pulled Judith closer. "Maybe," he agreed.

XXXX

The pair had long since settled into their own thoughts. Daryl kicked off the ground, the motion moved the swing back and forth in an easy rhythm. He listened to Lori hum softly, his hand stroking her belly in slow circles.

Her voice split as she muttered the words in a broken tune. "If they knew all about you, they'd end up loving you too. All those same people who scold you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you." Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, tears misty in her eyes. "I think he's finally asleep," Lori whispered, using the arm of the bench to push

herself to her feet. She wavered for a moment as she tried to find her equilibrium and Daryl reached out to steady her.

He got up too and walked with her to the door. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Lori asked, reaching up to cover a wide yawn with the back of her hand.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Call it a he?"

She shrugged, frowning thoughtfully. "I guess I am just used to Carl." She raised one eyebrow playfully. "Are you defensive on behalf of an unborn baby, Daryl?" She reached out to squeeze his bicep affectionately, clearly enjoying being an audience to his peculiar behaviour.

"I don't care neither way," he objected gruffly, pulling his arm out of her reach. "Figured it's y'all women that get all y'alls panties in a knot over that kinda shit."

Lori's smile widened and she reached past him to open the door. "Daryl Dixon, this baby- boy or girl, is very lucky to have you looking out for them. One day I hope someone tells them that."

XXXX

"Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine."


	9. Chapter 9

The smell of armadillo stew tickled his nose and Daryl lifted his head to look over at the small pot boiling away on the one-burner. Beth had painstakingly prepared the meal all morning, throwing in the last of her spices to make it a special one for their last day in the logging community. He watched the girl for a moment, flirting with her husband as they moved around each other in the corner of the room that had been designated as a kitchen. Carl had grown into one hell of a badass, but he seemed to go all soft around Beth, always kissing her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. Daryl rolled his eyes at the display and relocated them to the middle of the room so he could check on Judith.

The little girl had been sitting with Maggie and Ben for most of the morning, mostly watching the mother and son play with one another. She seemed reluctant to engage in their little game of tickling and make-believe, though she was eager to observe silently.

"He can't do talking," Judith observed, her voice holding an air of disappointment.

Maggie looked up in surprise. This was the first time that Judith had addressed her directly since their meeting. "He can a little bit. He is little so he is still learning."

Judith squinted at the explanation. "I could talk better," she looked down at Maggie's hands, her hair falling over her shoulders. "Could he count?"

Maggie shook her head. "No," she answered carefully, looking Judith over dubiously. "He's still little," she reiterated.

The girl frowned and turned away from Maggie to inspect Ben, who was placing unsharpened pencils into a cup as he chatted to his impromptu toys, his utterances a mixture of real words and babble. Judith crawled forward and snatched a pencil and then another, then sat back on her feet. "I could try that there," she pointed to the cup.

"When Ben is finished then you can have a try," Maggie told her, turning her eyes back to supervise her son. "You have to wait for your turn."

Judith looked to Daryl, her features a mixture of exasperation and confusion. Before he could respond she reached forward again and plucked the cup out of Ben's hands. The baby's loud protest made her freeze and she looked at him with the same expression that she had given Daryl moments before. "Shhh, the Walkers is gonna come," she objected.

"Judith, you can't just take things from people!" Maggie's voice rose as she reached for the small girl.

Alarmed as Maggie's hand closed around her forearm Judith reached out, wide-eyed- and jabbed the woman in the throat with her fingers. Maggie released her hold on the four-year-old and her hands flew to her windpipe as she gasped for air. She watched Judith's eyes flick to Daryl and fill with panic when the little girl realized that she couldn't get to him without passing between Maggie and Ben. Quickly she darted backwards and towards the next closest person. She collided with Rick's chest and threw her arms around him as she scampered onto his lap. The map he had been looking at was crushed between them and he looked to Daryl uncertainly for a moment before securing his arms around his daughter.

Maggie and Daryl both sprang to their feet simultaneously, their faces equally outraged.

"What the hell were ya thinkin' grabbin' 'er like that!" Daryl barked, taking a threatening step towards Maggie who bent down to pick up her wailing son.

With Ben held closely to her chest she stroked the back of his head to soothe him. "Me? This isn't the first time she's acted outta line with Ben, Daryl." The young mother looked to her husband for support. Glenn had already crossed the few feet to his wife's side and wrapped his arms around her biceps in an attempt to diffuse her anger.

"She ain't used ta bein' yelled at like that," Daryl defended Judith, clenching his hands at his sides, his fingers curled into tight fists.

"You mean she ain't used to bein' in civilized company," Maggie shifted Ben onto her other hip.

"I don't need to listen to this bullshit," Daryl leaned down to pick up his coat. "Judith, c'mere. We're gonna go fer a walk."

Judith leaned back from Rick, her hands sliding over his shoulders to rest on his chest. Her eyes met his matching ones and she held his unwavering gaze, her mouth pulled into a straight line. Slowly, she lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek as her head tilted.

"Judith, now!" Daryl ordered her again, holding her coat out to her.

The little girl complied and slid off Rick's lap with care, then made her way over to Daryl, her stare fixed on Maggie with distrust. Daryl was already moving towards the door while at the same time helping her put her coat on. They paused at the door so that she could slide her feet into her boots and collect Beanie.

"Daryl," Rick said his name so softly that he barely heard it. Daryl half-turned to see the other man get to his feet, "You'll bring her back, right?"

With a curt nod he stomped outside, Judith's hand closed inside his.

XXXX

"Where we're going?" Judith asked, running to keep up with his long strides, Beanie secured under one arm. When he didn't answer her she sighed and slowed down until she was stopped. "I ain't gonna walk no more," she told him decidedly, sitting down in the snow.

"Let's go- now," he said, coming to a stop. He turned around to look down at her as she shook her head defiantly. "Judith, I ain't kiddin' around. Let's go, y'hear?"

She remained stoic as she crossed her arms in front of her, Beanie held to her chest. The snow created a white cushion around her as she looked up at him, strands of hair glued to her lips with moisture.

"You wanna go back there?" He asked, shifting his stance so that his weight was resting on his back foot. When she didn't respond he grumbled. "Fine. That's just fine. You go back then. Go!" He pointed in the direction that they had come, their footprints in the snow a map that would lead her back to the camp.

Slowly, Judith got to her feet, the snow clumped and clinging to her jeans. She turned around to look in the direction that he was pointing and then back to him, her face flickering with uncertainty. Finally she turned her back to him and began to follow their trail, her boots crunching in the snow.

Daryl watched her retreating back and felt himself deflate. Her abandonment stung him and he felt an overwhelming rush of anger at her betrayal. "Fine," he muttered, hardening himself against the emotions that whipped through him like he'd been elbowed in the chest. He trudged away from the scene, burying his hands in his pockets.

He'd barely made it a few feet before he felt a tug at his sleeve. Turning around he lowered his gaze to find glassy blue eyes looking up at him, framed by dark lashes that had become branches cradling shimmering droplets. He dropped to his knees so that he was at eye-level with her, his own eyes stinging with tears. Her small mitten-covered hand rose to rest against his cheek, the frayed wool clinging to his stubble like Velcro.

She held his eyes for a moment before she slid her arms around his neck. "You gotted mad," Judith murmured, resting her cushioned cheek on his shoulder.

"Nah, I ain't mad," he sniffed shortly. "I'm scared I'm gonna lose you," he explained, his throat tightening like a fist.

Judith pulled back at his words, her face lighting up with a smile, so innocent that it made his heart ache all the more. "Y'all can't lost me," she giggled, her once wet eyes glimmering not with tears now, but with enchantment. "I could run real fast."

Daryl's breath rushed from his chest with a sudden puff of air that was almost a laugh. "C'mere," he sat back in the snow, ignoring the cold that penetrated the thick fabric of his jeans. Judith landed on his lap, her small hands bracing themselves on his chest so that they wouldn't collide heads. He pushed her bangs back from her face and tucked them up underneath her hat.

"Daryl," Judith sighed, her face dropping into a pout.

He felt concerned at her sudden shift in mood. "What?"

"What means waitin' fer yer turn?" she asked.

Daryl thought about the question before answering. "Mean ya just can't have things when ya want 'em all the time. Ya gotta let other folks go first, then you can take yer turn. Like…" he wracked his brain. "Like when ya both gotta take a piss, but someone's gotta keep watch fer Walkers."

She sighed again, shaking her head solemnly. "I sure don't like waitin' fer my turn."

This time he did laugh as he pulled her to his chest for a hug.

XXXX

The trailer was thick with underlying tension when Daryl and Judith stepped back inside. He pushed the little girl ahead of him, urging her forward so that he could close the door behind them, though she remained pressed to his leg, he cheek resting against the outside seam of his pants. Kneeling down next to her Daryl unzipped her coat and helped her take her boots off while avoiding looking at the room's other occupants. Judith kept her balance by resting her hands on his shoulders as he eased the dripping boots off her feet and then set them next to the door.

When she lingered at his side he gave her a gentle shove forward toward the centre of the room. With a last reluctant glance up at him she skipped quickly over to where Ben was toddling around, passing underneath the hammock that barely brushed his black hair. He'd picked up a shirt that he held in both hands and he gummed the sleeve leaving it damp with drool. Daryl watched Judith crouch down to pick up the cup and pencils that the toddler had been playing with, then go to the furthest wall where she took a seat cross-legged, Beanie tucked into her lap.

He had just finished hanging up his soaked and dripping coat on the hook next to the door when Maggie approached him, her hands clasped in front of her. She glanced at her husband who was looking over the map on the couch with a slump-shouldered Rick.

"Look- sorry about that whole thing," she began, and then stopped, taking a step back to accommodate him as he brushed past her to go to Judith. He kept his eyes forward, not ready to engage in any more of her insults or accusations. "Are you gonna talk this out with me? Or are we going to just keep giving each other the cold shoulder 'til one of us snaps and kills the other in their sleep?" Her voice was loaded with impatience and she huffed.

Daryl paused mid-step and turned to look at her over his shoulder. He'd had every attention of stone-walling her for the rest of the day- the century maybe. Maggie's face remained deadpan and she held her body rigid under his inspection. After a moment she lifted one shoulder arrogantly. "I don't want to be apologizing to you anymore than you want to hear it-," she said simply.

"Then we understand each other," he spat, his body tense as he felt like everyone was watching him out of the corner of their eyes. He hated her arrogance but he respected it- at least she had a code that she stood by. Even if it made her look like a jackass most of the time.

"But," Maggie raised her voice enough to command his attention again. "We're kind of stuck in this together, so we may as well make the best of it. Besides, I get it, okay?" She crossed her arms over her chest and settled on one foot. "I'm a mama bear. And if anyone messes with my cub I will take them down." Her green eyes shifted to her son for a second, her eyes softening before meeting his again. "I think you're a little like that too."

"Judith weren't gonna do nothin' to him," Daryl muttered, his fists relaxing as some of the tension left his body. "So I ain't the one you gotta be sorry to."

She nodded stiffly and looked around him at Judith, who was cramming her cloth doll inside the cup head first, her baby-teeth sinking into her lower lip with determination. Maggie raised both her eyebrows at the scene and shook her head with amusement. She met Daryl's eyes again and then sighed heavily before ambling over to the little girl. When she was a few feet away she crouched down, careful to keep her distance.

Judith looked up at her, then to Daryl who had taken the spot on the couch on the other side of Rick. He offered her a nod of reassurance then averted his eyes from her to the map where Glenn was drawing a line with his finger, though he listened in on the exchange between the woman and child, prepared to intervene if necessary.

"Sorry I grabbed you and yelled at you," Maggie began uncomfortably, her fingers forming a steeple in front of her. "Do you think we can be friends?" The question sounded uncertain and Daryl wanted to roll his eyes at her hypocrisy in accusing him at being shit with kids.

Judith pulled Beanie free from the cup and held it out to Maggie. "Yer meanin' ya' want this here?"

Maggie shook her head, her smile small and tight. "Nah, you play with it for now. But maybe Ben will want a turn again later." She tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. "I can't believe I am apologizing to a child," she mumbled, then took a deep breath. The small girl gave her another confused look and put the cup down in the space between them. "Maybe you can say sorry to me for punching me. That… hurt." Her fingers reached up to touch the spot where Judith had jabbed her.

Judith looked to Daryl again. When he didn't respond to her check-in she returned her gaze to Maggie. "I ain't sure what'cha mean," she picked up Beanie and held her to her chest, her arms crossing over in front of the doll.

Maggie thought for a moment. "It means you feel bad for hurting someone."

Judith pushed herself up the wall using her legs and took a long step around the crouched woman. Keeping her eyes fixed on her, she shook her head slowly. "I ain't," she said simply making her way over to where Daryl. She slid her arms around his neck and climbed onto his lap, her bony knees digging into his thighs. She settled there, her cheek resting against his chest as she listened to Glenn and Rick negotiate their travel route. Daryl answered her indignant look with an unaffected shrug and turned his attention to the map again, his hand resting on Judith's back.

"Well that went well," Maggie mumbled to Beth as she leaned against the desk next to where her sister was dishing out their meal into plastic bowls. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, drumming her fingernails on the veneer finish. "She is a mini Daryl Dixon if I ever saw one."

Beth looked up at her big sister, her blue eyes filled with patience and understanding. "Remember the first time you tried to feed her? And you weren't sure how to hold the bottle?" she asked, her voice steady and kind. At Maggie's nod she continued. "It's kind of like that. You just gotta learn how to hold the bottle."

Maggie huffed again and trudged over to sit next to her husband.

Beth passed around the bowls of strew, proudly presenting the food to each member of the group individually. Daryl accepted his and Judith's with a thankful nod. He waited until the little girl was settled and then passed her the bowl. She stayed in her spot on his lap, using his chest as a backrest and her knees as a table. Daryl kept a careful eye on her as she ate, mindful that she didn't spill the hot contents of the bowl onto herself.

As he ate his own food he tried to remember when he'd last had something so carefully prepared and delicious. He got as far back as the prison when Carol had been the main cook on duty. His mouth watered between each bite and he shoveled it back quickly.

After their meal they packed they their things and prepared to leave. Daryl folded the hammock into a tight package and secured it to his pack using bungee cords.

Judith had laid her clothes out on the floor in a straight line and then meticulously rolled them before packing them into her bag. "Does he go'ed in a bag?" She asked Maggie, her eyes settled curiously on Ben, who had fallen asleep, his cheek resting on his mother's thigh. "Beanie could go'ed in my pack."

"No, I carry him," Maggie answered, running her fingers over her son's hair. "Why did you name your baby Beanie?"

Judith inspected her doll. "It ain't a baby. Is a Beanie. That one are a baby," she pointed to the napping toddler.

"Judith, why don't I braid your hair before we go?" Beth suggested, falling back heavily onto the couch with a sigh, her hand rubbing the curve of her belly. She waived off Carl's concerned expression and pointed to the spot on the floor before her. Judith, who had been pulling out the contents of the front pouch of her bag, nodded and walked over to the young woman, the pack of hairbands clutched in her fingers.

She kneeled down on the floor where Beth had indicated, flicking her long hair behind her. Daryl watched curiously as she fiddled with the things in her hands, almost nervously. He bit his tongue before asking her what she was thinking about in case it was something that Rick didn't want to hear. The thick paper flicked under her thumb as she watched Rick out of the corner of her eye. When Beth tapped her shoulder she placed a purple band into the pregnant woman's palm to secure the braid before getting to her feet.

Instead of returning to her packing she stopped in front of her father, her sock covered toes touching his. He looked up from the weapons and ammo that he had been sorting, surprise registering on his face. The look intensified when Judith thrust the papers in her hand out to him.

"You could see 'em if ya want," she offered quietly.

Rick swallowed and carefully accepted the photos from her hand, his movements slow as a bird watcher, as though he was nervous to scare her away. He flipped the pictures over and peered at the image of his wife for the first time in years. His eyes welled and he tilted his head. "God," he muttered, his voice ruptured. "Look at her…"

Judith placed one hand on his knee and leaned over to see the picture too. "That there is my ma," she explained. "She were'd a real pain in the ass, but she loved me. You know'ed that?"

Rick laughed and looked to Daryl for a moment. "That's true," he swiped at his cheeks with a shaking hand. "Most of it."

"That there is my pa," she pointed to the much younger and fresher version of Rick. "I were sure lucky ta come from his stock."

"Do you," Rick hesitated. "Do you want to sit with me and look at these together for a bit?"

Judith shook her head and took the pictures back, causing Rick's posture to fall. Turning around she headed back to her backpack. "We could later. We gotta pack now, y'hear?"

Tense laughter resounded in the room and Daryl realized that he hadn't been the only one watching the exchange on bated breath. On her way past him Judith's hand lingered on Daryl's cheek before she kneeled beside him and put her pictures away.

From opposite sides of the room the two men's eyes met- then they returned to their work.

The small group bundled up warmly and gathered around the doorway, Ben curled into his father's side. Judith tugged on Daryl's sleeve and he looked down at her as the others began to filter out into the early afternoon. "I don't need no carryin'," she informed him, sliding her hand into his.

Daryl squeezed her fingers through her mittens and nodded. The pair followed Beth out onto the porch and he did a sweep of the immediate area before starting down the steps. Carl had hung back, leaning against the railing, his hands tucked into his pockets. Daryl was surprised when he didn't immediately fall into step with his wife. Instead, he reached out to stoutly grasp Daryl's arm.

The two men didn't speak right away, and Daryl was about to pull himself free before the Carl shrugged and allowed the crossbow that had been settled on his shoulder to slide free. The strap caught in his elbow and he jerked it up into his hands then held the weapon out. He shrugged indifferently, dismissing Daryl's reluctant expression. "I call dibs on the next cool weapon we find."

Daryl accepted the bow and slipped it onto his back, the weight of it comfortable and familiar. "We'll see about that," he offered Carl a nod and pushed off after the group, Judith's hand still closed around his.

Carl strode past him, moving swiftly over the packed snow, his face tucked into the collar of his coat. Daryl watched him for a moment before pulling his own handgun out of his pocket. He whistled, causing the other man to stop and half-turn. Daryl tossed him the weapon, "Until you find somethin' better."


	10. Chapter 10

The forest was renewed after the last snowfall and Daryl felt as though he was weaving through an unfamiliar maze. The walls of thick branches around them bowed beneath the burden of heavy snow. Small animal tracks caught his attention and he followed them into the distance, over the swells of snowdrifts and out of sight. Judith's fingers flexed in his and he looked down at her rosy cheeked smile.

"I could see a deer were here," she pointed to the dainty impressions in the snow.

Daryl nodded and shifted his heavy pack, wincing at the pain in his side. He was healing steadily, but there was only so much he could expect after just over a week since his injury. Beth's head turned in his periphery and he caught her offering him a concerned look. Ignoring it, he turned his eyes forward and did a sweep of the trees around him. Judith tugged on his hand again, reclaiming his attention. Her question was a silent one as her eyes expressed her uncertainty. He gave her a nod of assurance and she scrunched her nose with dissatisfaction. The truth was he didn't know where they were going.

Since their separation from the group he had always held onto a sliver of hope that one day he wouldn't always be responsible for Judith on his own. He figured that having the others back would mean that he could go back to being second-in-command. Instead of comfort though, the return of their leader had made him feel more uncertain. Rick had not been a perfect leader in the past and he worried that he would have to be more vigilant now.

Daryl looked at the man who led the group in solitary silence. Rick's large steps drew a long distance between him and them. He walked with the confidence of a man who had done this for years and survived- one who left it all out on the field.

With Judith to care for, Daryl had taken a very different strategy- to him, a less reckless one. He had avoided conflict and skirted around the gaze of danger. He'd kept his head low to protect hers. Now he wondered if the payoff was worth it. He hadn't been able to provide for Judith the stable home that Lori would have wanted her to have. They'd been running for so long that he'd forgotten what it meant to have a place that felt like home. Maybe Rick and Carl were right, maybe if they charged ahead into danger they might find long-term safety.

Suddenly the transient plans that they had agreed on didn't seem so half-baked and heedless. Judith laid her forehead against the inside of his wrist and sighed. "Where we're going?" she asked again, this time muttering the words sleepily into his palm.

"To find a home," Daryl answered her, pinching her fleshy cheek to wake her up.

Her head lifted and she looked up at him curiously. "There sure are lotta words I don't knowed," she told him. "You learned 'em all at that there place- school?"

Daryl smiled and pushed her bangs back. "Some of 'em," he told her. "Home is like, y'know how squirrels live in them football nests? Up in trees? That's a home."

Judith nodded, "Oh, we's goin' on a squirrel hunt?"

Daryl chuckled and shook his negatively. "We're lookin' for a home for us. Ta live in."

Silence followed his statement and he looked down to see Judith's eyes squint as she processed his words. Finally her features settled into a leery expression and she peered up at him skeptically. "We ain't can't live in a tree," she said decidedly.

A giggle caught his attention and he looked up to the young couple who had been walking arm-in-arm just ahead of him and Judith. Beth slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter while Carl hid his amused expression in his wife's cheek. Daryl felt a twinge of embarrassment at knowing they had overheard his failed teaching session.

"Why they're laughin'?" Judith asked him, returning her forehead to the spot on his wrist. She clung to his hand more heavily and she stumbled against his leg.

"'Cause they're pain in the asses," he answered simply, looking over at the couple again. Beth offered him a sheepish shrug while her husband rolled his eyes and slid his arm around her back and pulled her closer into his side.

Judith accepted his answer with a small nod and raised her arms, releasing her hold on him. Daryl considered for a moment how he could accommodate the small girl, his pack, and his cross-bow. Deciding it would be impossible he whistled, drawing the group's attention. Nodding to Carl he slipped the crossbow off his shoulder and handed it to the young man.

Carl accepted the weapon without meeting his eyes and slipped it over his shoulder. Without missing a step Daryl lifted Judith and settled her on his good side where she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek on his shoulder. "Where we're gonna find home?"

Daryl wasn't sure of the answer to that question, so he shushed her.

The West was apparently a death trap and an impenetrable wall of dead that seemed to swell daily. Carl had suggested that the Walkers had been moving in circles through the area like a hurricane and perhaps they had found themselves in the eye of the storm. Rick had reported that there wasn't much North either except a settlement of people who didn't seem particularly friendly. And so they had decided to pick their way South West in hope of finding a place to settle until spring when Beth's baby would come.

There had been talks about going back to Hershel's farm, but the journey would take weeks on foot- even longer with two children and a pregnant woman.

"Walkers," Rick turned around to the group, already pulling his gun out of its holster. The other man didn't appear to be particularly distressed so Daryl didn't rush placing Judith on her feet. Beth took the little girl's hand while Daryl and Carl fell into step with each other. Daryl took his crossbow back and gave it a rudimentary inspection while they covered the few feet until they found themselves at Rick and Glenn's side.

The four men watched as a writhing group of Walkers devoured an almost unrecognizable carcass, their hands and teeth tearing into its side and splattering blood and tissue onto the snow. Daryl counted six of them crouched around the ravaged deer- a small enough number for them to take down hand-to-hand and with his crossbow. He was lining up a shot when he felt a tug on his pants. Looking down he spotted Judith standing at his side.

"What'r you doin' here? Get back with Beth," he jutted his chin over his shoulder.

Judith looked to the Walkers who had gotten to their feet and had begun staggering toward them, their gaits swinging like pendulums. "I could get 'em," she told him, unclipping her knife from her belt. She opened it easily and gave him a determined look.

Rick, Glenn, and Carl had already started towards the Walkers, their own blades glinting in the last of the sunlight, its piercing rays struggling to light the woods over the tree-line.

"Ya stay here, y'hear?" He started to follow the other men. "If I need ya I'll holler."

Judith nodded as Beth came up behind her and closed her arms around the little girl, the pregnant woman panting for breath. "You can't run off from me like that," Daryl heard the woman scold the small child, her voice gentle but firm. He diverted his attention away from them and focused on taking down the Walker closest to him.

In a matter of minutes they stood in the middle of a cluster of dead corpses. Daryl picked up some snow and started washing the slick black blood off his hands and forearms. Next to him Rick did the same and they met eyes for a moment before the ex-deputy's mouth twisted into a small smile.

The sound of bone crunching behind them made both men turn and they found Judith crouched over a Walker, pulling her knife out of its skull. "I could pra'tice," she explained, her knife dripping with brain matter. Stepping over the corpse she took her spot next to Daryl and pointed to the ruined deer. "Damn waste, that is."

Daryl looked to Rick who was watching his daughter, small smile still playing on his mouth, his blue eyes crinkled in the corners.

XXXX

Ben had become cranky with hunger and cold and they all feared that his cries would attract more Walkers than they would be able to handle. They huddled around a simple fire, wrapped up in their blankets. Carl and Rick had made a mat on the ground from sawed pine branches, the thick boughs providing a dry padded bed that insulated them from the frozen ground. Daryl set up the hammock, suspended between two trees above the camp. He hesitated, his eyes lingering on Maggie and Glenn's sleeping toddler and Beth's swollen belly.

His silent offer was declined as Beth curled into her husband's side, her head resting on his chest. She hummed with satisfaction as her eyes drifted closed, clearly exhausted from the day's travels. Her husband, propped up on his bag, rubbed the small of her back and her hips and watched her fall asleep, his face giving away the concern that he kept carefully masked whenever she was looking.

Maggie, Glenn, and Ben crawled into a single sleeping bag, the baby snuggled between his parents for warmth.

Off in the distance Daryl could just make out Rick's silhouette leaning against a tree, his back to the camp. Turning, he lifted Judith into the hammock and then climbed in himself. He settled on his back with her on his chest then tucked them into their sleeping bag.

The night was so silent that he could hear it roaring in his ears as he listened for something to betray its false security. The fire popped below them and Rick's boots crunched in the snow as he walked the perimeter and Daryl began to drift off. Judith shifted and he opened his eyes to find her blue ones open and watching him.

"Get ta sleep," he told her, guiding her head down to settle in its spot over his heart.

She stayed quiet and still for a long time and he listened to her breathing even out.

XXXX

The fire burned brightly in the small one-room office that they had been staying in for over a week. He sat on the couch that he had dragged into the room for them to use as a bed and listened to the sound of powdered mushroom soup simmering in a cast-iron pot on the grate, placed carefully into the flames.

The baby sat not far from the fire, her chubby hands holding onto her doll as she gummed its arm and babbled nonsense determinedly, her voice rising above the sound of metal on metal as he sharpened his knife.

He looked her over, her hair still a mussed up nest from her nap earlier that afternoon. She curled her toes and looked over her shoulder at him, her doll dangling from her mouth- as though she could sense him watching her. Using the weight of her arms she turned over and got on all fours, leaving her doll abandoned on the floor where she had been sitting. She started to crawl towards him, her diaper crinkling as she moved.

Daryl watched her progress silently, his hands stilling their movements. When she reached his side she placed her hands on the couch and pulled herself to unsteady feet.

"Watcha' doin?" He asked her, reaching out to wipe the drool off her chin with his thumb. Her skin was smooth and soft under his calloused hand and he allowed his palm to linger on her rounded cheek. "You commin' to see Daryl?" he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

The smell of burning suddenly caught his attention and he looked to see that the pot had caught a flame. "Damn," he growled, tossing his knife to the side while launching himself to his feet. He grabbed for the handle of the cast-iron and heard his skin sizzle as it made contact with the metal. "Damn son-o' god damn," he used his boot to pull the pot free while jamming his wounded fingers into his mouth, cutting off his own tirade.

"Da da da-mn," the baby voice behind him called out. He froze at the sound of babbling as it gave way to a solid word. Turning around slowly he found her sitting on the floor beside the couch, her hands wrapped around her toes as she rocked, watching him intently.

"Jesus," he muttered, leaving the charred soup to continue to burn to the pot. "Did ya' just say somethin'?" he asked, crouching down beside the tiny girl. Ignoring his injured hand he picked her up and rested her against his chest. "That's right. Damn- can you say that again?" He bounced her to get her attention when she looked past him at her doll.

Instead of giving in to his request she slid her thumb into her mouth and pointed to her toy.

"Yeah, alright," he muttered, setting her on the floor. "Ya little smart-ass," he smoothed her hair and pushed the doll into her arms before turning to deal with the ruins that had once been a promising meal. He sighed in annoyance at the blackened soup then turned back to the baby. His frustration slipped away and was replaced by the sensation of his heart swelling in his chest. The feeling was almost painful and he placed his hand over it as he realized it hurt in a way that felt… good.

"Ya got right in there, Lil' Ass-Kicker," he muttered, heading over to his pack to get another package of soup. "Now what am I supposed to do with that, damnit."

XXXXXX

"Wait for me, Merle," Daryl called after his brother, cursing his legs for being too damn short to keep up. He looked ahead to where his brother had ducked beneath the rickety old bridge that groaned every time a car passed over it.

Wrapping the long grass around his wrist he gripped it and slid down the sandy ridge that led down to the small stream where he'd built a dam the summer before. The collection of sticks and leaves had fallen apart over the winter, leaving the water to run smoothly again. With a swift kick he dislodged the last part of it and used the momentum to sprint after his brother. "Merle you shit-head- wait!"

He flinched before slipping under the bridge and covered his head. "Damn pussy," he scolded himself as he dropped his arms and forced himself to cross the rest of the way without reacting to the creaking wood above him.

Daryl spotted Merle not to far away. He had crouched down next to the water and Daryl paused, fearful for a moment of what his brother was up to. "Watch'a lookin' at?" he asked, approaching the crouched man with a sense of caution.

"Cat," Merle answered, turning to look over his shoulder. "Pussy must'a got herself hit up there on the bridge."

Daryl closed the distance between them and joined his brother. The cat lay on its side, its stomach slowly expanding and deflating but otherwise still. He inspected its waterlogged fur, filthy and caked with scum and blood. "How'd it get over here?" he asked, reaching out to touch the cat's head. She growled but he didn't pull his hand away.

Merle squinted as the sun hit his eyes and he looked between the bridge and the cat. "Flew maybe if the car were goin' fast enough. Maybe crawled."

Taking a step closer Daryl slid his hand under its head and back. His movements were stopped when Merle gripped his arm.

"Ain't nothin' you can do for her now," his older brother grunted.

Tears warmed his eyes and Daryl pulled his hands back. "We can't jus' leave 'er out here," he said, his voice breaking. "She's sufferin'."

Merle nodded and picked up a rock. It looked large and heavy in his hand.

"What are you doin'?" Daryl asked, swiping at his eyes. "Merle, don't-," he squeezed his eyes closed when Merle raised the rock in a fast and swift motion. Every muscle in his body stiffened and he recoiled when he heard it crash down, the impact creating a crunching sound. A sob sputtered from his mouth before he could stop it and he opened his eyes to see the cat's skull, flattened and oozing blood and brain.

Merle tossed the rock into the creek and got to his feet. "Sometimes the kindest thing ya' can do is put 'em outta their misery."

XXXX

Daryl woke early the next morning and climbed out of the hammock to join the others around the fire. The sun was barely up yet and the air was brisk and chilly without even its thin winter rays to warm them. Glenn shuffled stiffly out of his sleeping bag, jammed his hands into his pockets with a shiver and muttered about going to use the restroom.

With his own feet on frozen solid ground, Daryl passed Judith her boots and watched her shove her feet into them before lifting her and placing her next to him where he fixed her coat. She waited impatiently, buzzing with energy while he pulled her hat over her ears and then immediately crossed over to Beth who was sorting through their food. The pregnant woman had pulled everything out of the bag and was carefully examining each option, her face calculating. He wondered if she was worried they would run out and he turned away from them to wipe moisture off the hammock.

"We could eated this one," Judith suggested, crouching down next to the collection of jars, cans, and packages. She held up a short cylinder with curiosity. "T-U-N-A… what that says? Fishes?" she guessed upon further inspection of the label.

Daryl crouched down beside the fire and picked up a stick from their kindling. He opened his mouth to correct her but wasn't quick enough.

"Tuna," Beth told her, reaching out to take the can. "I don't think my baby wants tuna today," she grimaced, running her fingers over her belly.

Maggie, who was wrangling Ben into a fresh pair of overalls looked over concerned. "You feeling alright?"

The blonde nodded and looked down shyly. "I'm fine," she insisted quietly and handed Judith another can. "Just a bit nauseous is all. How about some chicken soup? And we can add some vegetables to it…"

The little girl looked the can over, her index finger tracing the letters on the label, and then gave her approval with a small nod. "Okay… that baby likes it?" She nodded to Ben, frowning at his tantrum. "That one sure could cried a lot."

"Babies can't talk, so they cry to tell us when they want or don't like something," Beth explained, then nodded to her husband's pack. "Will you please pass me that pot?"

Judith pushed herself eagerly to her feet and went over to where Rick had taken a seat on the other side of the fire. Pausing mid-step, she looked between him and the pack next to him for a moment. Her father looked up at her and offered her a small tired smile. "Good morning, Judith," he greeted her.

She continued to watch him closely, her features guarded before finally saying, "You ain't sleep lots." Closing the distance between them she crouched down beside the bag and started to work on unclipping the pot. "You don't got tired?"

Rick looked surprised at the question. "I am- tired," he answered, his eyes flicking to Beth's then Daryl's before settling on his folded hands that were draped over his knees. The sharp angles of his thin face further accentuated the deep circles under his eyes and his ashy complexion.

Judith unhooked the pot and hugged it to her chest before standing again. "Why you don't sleep?"

Rick blinked and squinted up at her. "Cause I have stuff on my mind… things- I uh, it's complicated. Grown up stuff."

The girl accepted his answer easily and went back over to Beth to deliver the pot. She watched Rick out of the corner of her eye, her face contemplative. Daryl leaned back against the tree that he had secured one end of the hammock to and picked up his knife, listening in on Judith and Beth's conversation as they prepared their meal. A sudden shift in Judith's tone sharpened his attention and he looked over at her. "You could hold my Beanie," she offered, turning the can of vegetables over to pour them into the pot, her gaze settling on her father again.

Rick chuckled softly, amusement colouring his dull grey eyes. "I think I'm a little bit old for dolls… But I appreciate the offer."

"I think that meaned no," Judith looked to Beth for confirmation. When she received a nod she looked down at the pot again. "Did you know'ed that Daryl gotted a Beanie too?" She asked after a moment, her body focused on mixing the contents of the two cans together. "Me!" When she looked up again her face was teasing and pixie-like.

Daryl scoffed and avoided looking up from the stick he was whittling into a small spear. He felt a sting of embarrassment at her words but he masked it. Out of the corner of his eye he inspected Rick, whose smile didn't falter. The other man's head dipped as he chuckled again, some of the weariness slipping away from his eyes.

Once the soup was ready Judith helped Beth to hand out the bowls, and then took a seat next to Daryl, her extended legs hooked at the ankles. The small group ate without conversation, each one of its adult members' eyes fixed on the dying fire, mentally preparing themselves for a day's worth of traveling on foot. Judith waited patiently in the silence for something to happen as she stirred the broth in her bowl.

They broke camp and headed out, Rick taking the lead again with Daryl and Judith just behind him. Judith carried Beanie under one arm and dragged her feet in the snow, creating long tire-like tracks in her wake. Maggie walked in the grooves, her son balancing in her arms as she chatted with Beth in a low voice. Carl and Glenn brought up the rear, their weapons drawn and ready- after their encounter with the Walkers the day before they didn't want to take any chances.

They hadn't been walking for more than an hour before something caught Daryl's attention in the short distance. He paused mid-stride and looked at the woods around him as he searched his internal map. Starting with the thick old-growth tree to his right he traced a straight shot across the space in front of him until his eyes settled on a sodden stump jutting upwards, its chipped uneven surface wearing a snowy cap. Sweeping his vision forward he followed a hill upwards until he couldn't see beyond it.

In his recent memory he recollected the visage of two young children, a boy and a girl darting over the earth's swell- the girl tumbling and sliding down as they laughed.

"What is it? You see somethin'?" Rick asked, turning his upper body to see Daryl, his hands resting on his utility belt and gun.

"Been here before," Daryl answered, looking down at Judith who slipped her hand into his as she stood on tip-toe to see over the hill. Her baby teeth worried her cherry-coloured lower lip and her brow creased in concern. He squeezed her hand before releasing it and passing it to Beth- the sisters and their husbands had caught up and they all stood in a small cluster.

"Something we should all know?" Carl asked, checking the chamber on a six-shooter before passing it to his wife. His fingers lingered for a moment on her knuckles as she accepted the weapon.

Daryl shrugged. "Messed up family- ate Walkers," he looked down at Judith and then up at Beth who shifted uncomfortably, her face moving between confusion and disbelief before paling into a light green tint. "I uh, their son came at me with a knife. That's how I got carved up," his hand settled on his side.

Maggie shuddered and pulled Ben closer. "They ate Walkers? What kind of-," she looked at the spot over his shoulder as though she was still processing the gravity of the information.

"Bunch o' dumbasses, that's who," Daryl turned his gaze towards the same direction that hers had on. "Didn't know nothin' 'bout how ta live without take-out and… hell- computers and whatever. Point is, they fucked up and they got fucked up. Best we stay the hell away."

"I want to take a look," Carl had already started towards the hill that would drop off to reveal the cabin. "Can't hurt."

Daryl looked to Rick who nodded and followed his son, already unclipping his weapon from its holster. Judith pulled her hand free from Beth's, leaving her mitten still in the pregnant woman's hand, and darted after her father and brother. Sighing, Daryl indicated the three-some with his chin and started after them. He took two large quick steps and snagged the back of the little girl's coat, giving the fabric a quick tug, breaking her momentum and causing her to tumble back against him.

She growled with impatience before meeting his eyes. Her expression turned into a sheepish one and she pursed her lips.

"Ya don't just run off like that, y'hear?" he scolded, getting a firm hold on her hand. "Been too much o' that and ya know better."

Judith submitted to his grip on his and walked obediently beside him. "Daryl? We's gonna go back ta that there place?"

"The cabin- yeah," he answered. "But we ain't stayin'- we're just gonna take a look and then we're gettin' outta here."

She perked up at his affirmation of her thoughts. "Good, we could getted more veg'ables," she told him gleefully, bouncing beside him.

Before he could answer they had caught up with Carl and Rick who had crouched down just before the crest of the hill. Daryl lowered himself into the same position, drawing the little girl down with him. Over his shoulder he could hear the others picking their way up the hill.

Daryl ignored them and refocused on the view of the clearing where the small cabin was still nestled. The scene before him was picturesque, as it had been before, but it didn't feel as quaint somehow. The windows showed off the dark lifeless interior of the cabin- the warm glow of the fire replaced by black shadows. And the stone chimney gave off no smoke that had wafted the scent of smoked cedar throughout the defoliated area. The gate swung outwards, its latch still unrepaired and splintered at the lock from when he had kicked it.

He expected to find Walkers swarming the place but the cottage was comatose- undisturbed. The fresh snow leading to the gate appeared like a flawless shell- untrampled. A quick glance at the other two men in his company confirmed that they would take a closer look.

They approached the cabin, their movements tight and cautious as they moved in a practiced formation. They kept Ben and Judith in the center of their assembly, though Judith reminded Daryl that she could see anything several times as they covered the short distance to the gate.

The snow had drifted along the wall and he kicked it loose before pushing the gate open slowly. Peeking inside he found the yard empty and the front door of the cabin open. Fat blood drops had frozen into the snow and staggering footprints led around the side of the building, uneven and clumsy in their appearance. Daryl stepped through the gate first, his crossbow raised and pointed towards the black interior of the cabin.

Rick followed him through, then Carl, and then the others. Daryl jutted his chin towards the gate, instructing Judith to push it closed. The girl slid between the cage of Glenn and Maggie's legs and did as she was instructed. Looking around, she picked up a piece of splintered wood and slid it into the crossbar. The wood was barely a twig and wouldn't hold, but Daryl praised her efforts with a nod of his head before he moved forward. Glenn and Carl ducked around the back to follow the blood trail while he and Rick advanced towards the front door.

The sound of smacking and tearing caught Daryl's ear and he eased the door open slowly with his shoulder. The wood gave way to the motion, pouring more sunlight into the darkness. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the still shadow-filled room, he picked up movements on the other side of the table where the sounds were coming from. He stepped fully inside, his weapon at the ready, his finger resting solidly against its trigger.

The table edge cleared his line of sight and his eyes settled on the hunched form of a child, ratty and bloodied blonde hair caked and nest-like against a purple sweater. Another larger body was splayed out on the floor before the crouched child and Daryl's eyes immediately moved to where a long broomstick skirt covered all but the pale skin of its ankles and bare feet. Daryl flinched ever so slightly at the sight and he heard Rick swallow over his shoulder.

The girl before them stopped moving for a moment before her head lifted and she gradually rose to her feet, her upper body rigid. She turned, stepping to the side to fully reveal the body on the floor. Katrina, her abdomen splayed- a partially devoured cavity. Its flesh puckered up around where her extended uterus had been torn open, oozing blood that had congealed into thick gooey clots.

The sight made Daryl's stomach clench but none-so-much as when his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness and he was able to make out the long thick rope that began in her stomach cavity and extended upwards to the girl's hands, tethering the flesh the she held to the body.

The baby had been mostly devoured, its face an unrecognizable pool of raw ground flesh. The girl stared at them, her blank eyes darting between them, her lip pulled back into a bloody snarl. Tissue was caked into the spaces between her teeth and thick sinewy blood plastered itself to her cheeks and down her throat. Rick raised his weapon, clicking the safety, and Daryl looked between the barrel of the gun and the girl before reaching out to stop him. "She's alive," he told him, taking a step back. "Outside."

Rick hesitated before stepping backwards out the door. Daryl followed him and winced as Susan dropped the floppy half-eaten foetus to the ground with a slick thud. A gunshot from the back of the house made them both jump and Maggie quickly pushed her son into Beth's arms before dashing towards the sound.

She stopped at the corner of the cabin when Carl and Glenn appeared shoulder-to-shoulder, their faces stoic. They all breathed an audible sigh of relief at the appearance of the two men, though Daryl remained foreboding at the thought of what they might have found. Perhaps the family had been too stupid to put their boy down before he changed… or Susan had- he stopped himself from wondering and looked to Carl.

"Man," Carl filled them in, tucking his gun into his holster. "Guy was half eaten but alive, weird that he didn't turn… there was a boy too, but he'd been put down-," the young man tensed at the look on his father's face. He drew his weapon again. "Somethin' inside?"

As he posed his question the door squeaked and glided open to reveal Susan, her eyes glassy with tears as she stepped out onto the snow, trembling and whimpering. She winced as the sunlight struck her face and reached up her bloody hands to wipe her eyes, further painting her face with red.

"My Lord," Beth whispered, turning Judith's face into her thigh.

The little girl squirmed out of her grasp and stepped forward to join Daryl's side. They watched together in silence as Susan stepped further out into the day, her hands raised to block the sun from her eyes, her bare feet crunching on the snow. Daryl's throat clenched as he recognized the scene as one that was familiar to him. A small girl emerging from darkness- one he should have saved but had failed.

"Help me," she cried, dropping one hand from her eyes to reach for them. Her hands trembled badly and she curled her toes, sinking them into the snow, her head tilting in confusion.

Judith watched her curiously, Beanie held closely to her chest. One cheek rested against the doll's wool hair and she frowned. "She ain't no Walker."

"Daryl," Rick's voice was urgent, his blue eyes fixed on the girl before them. The man's mouth opened but no words came out.

Daryl ignored them all and kept his eyes trained on the girl, his heart thudding evenly in his chest. Susan suffered another whimper and froze, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched them, her lip quivering with emotion and cold. Without another word Daryl raised his crossbow and lined up the tip off the arrow with the center of Susan's blood-smeared forehead.

The girl barely had time to whimper before he squeezed the trigger and an arrow slid easily through her skull, killing her instantly.

Beside him Judith had squeezed her eyes closed, her face buried into the loose denim at the back of his jeans.

Slowly, he lowered his weapon and passed it to Carl. "Another one inside, better put her down before she's up," he instructed the young man and crouched down to slide his arms around Judith's back. The little girl melted into his chest and he lifted her as he stood, holding her tightly. He held her in place with one arm and reached out to rest his hand on Beth's shoulder, his eyes meeting her shimmering blue ones. "Best you stay out here for a bit. Ain't nothin' you gotta see in there."

She nodded and sniffled, offering him a watery smile. "You did the right thing," she told him, giving his extended arm a reassuring squeeze.

Daryl dropped his eyes and met Rick's, waiting for some judgment or affirmation. The other man gave him a small nod and pressed a kiss to his hand before touching the back of Judith's head. Without a word he turned and followed his son and Glenn inside.

Judith shifted in his arms and lifted her head from where her cheek had been resting on his shoulder. "Y'all look glum," she noted, tilting her head as she sat back on his forearm. Sliding her arms around his shoulders she hugged him tightly. "Why you did that?"

Daryl swallowed. "'Cause sometimes when somethin' is sufferin' ya gotta jus'- it's the only way to help it."

The little girl kept her tight hold on him and nodded, though he wondered if she really understood at all. Part of him hoped that she didn't- that the world hadn't taken that much from her.

"I sure am fond o' ya, Judith," he laid his forehead against the spot above her ear and closed his eyes.

Judith remained still against him, her boots dangling against his thighs. "'Cause that means I love ya," she answered quietly as they followed the others inside.


	11. Epilogue

Spring settled into the woods slowly, melting the snow and turning the ground fresh and fertile beneath his feet. Already plants had begun to sprout around the cabin and animals chattered in the thickening trees overhead. The sun rose earlier and earlier, pouring fresh sunlight through their small windows each morning and lighting it well into the evening.

The group had had hunkered down inside the cramped cabin through the rest of the winter, stepping on each other's toes but always glad for the comfort of being together. All but Rick, Daryl, and Judith slept in the back room, sprawled out on the wall to wall beds. Ben slept in the middle, gated in place by the sisters. In the main room, the hammock was strung up close to the ceiling for Daryl, with a smaller one beneath it where Judith slept- suspended bunk beds.

Rick had taken a mattress on the floor in the kitchen area. During the day, he would fold it in half and toss into the bedroom so it wouldn't be underfoot while they took care of the chores.

They had plans to expand the cabin into the backyard to make more room. They had already begun making trips to the logging community to dismantle the buildings and they carried the sheet-metal and beams home on their backs- the process was slow but necessary. The baby would come soon and they would need more space.

In the front of the house, Beth had discovered a small garden buried under the snow. She and Judith were giddy with excitement about growing fresh vegetables and they had written their request for seeds at the top of the supplies list for the next time Glenn and Maggie went on a run.

Judith had listened wide eyed as Beth explained that the seeds would come in little packets, and that they would bury in the garden. She'd declared with scepticism in her voice that vegetables came from cans, not seeds, but she had agreed to give it a try.

Daryl smiled as he recalled Judith sitting at the table, carefully writing the letters as Beth dictated them to her. She'd dragged the pencil so painstakingly slowly over the paper that he was sure it would take her all night to finish the word carrot. When she'd crossed the 't' she'd beamed at him from across the room and held the paper up for him to see her work. He'd nodded and turned his attention back to whittling a small wooden car for Ben.

Giving up on his hunt he resigned himself to heading back with only a couple of squirrels tied to a cord that he'd slung over his shoulder. It wouldn't be enough but he would head out again later in the evening to try and find more. Maybe he would take Judith with him- he liked taking her on his own like the old times.

Daryl swung around the back of the fence to take a peek at the small Walker pen. They'd collected a couple already since that morning. The two of them scratched against the back wall of the barn, too distracted by the animals inside to notice him coming up behind them. He jammed two knives into their skulls simultaneously, dropping them into a heap on the floor. Leaving them to be dragged out later he turned towards the small clearing where four simple crosses were jammed crookedly into the ground. His fingers brushed the rough wood on the closest one to him where he had buried Susan himself.

The cabin was quiet when he stepped inside; Maggie, Glenn, and Rick had taken a day trip to the logging community to retrieve some tools that they had discovered the day before. The cracked bedroom door indicated that Ben had gone down for his afternoon nap and Daryl allowed himself a private smile at the sight of Judith sitting at the table with a pencil in hand, focused on whatever she was doing.

Beth sat next to her, her swollen feet propped up on an overturned crate. She looked up to meet his eyes for a moment and she offered him a tired smile. Even the good natured woman's patience was tried by the level of discomfort brought on by the last weeks of her pregnancy.

"Carl?" He asked, propping his crossbow up against the wall next to the hammocks.

Her eyes rolled and she gave an exasperated sigh which she quickly buried with another smile. "He was gettin' on my last nerve, hoverin' the way he does…" she smoothed one hand over her belly. "I sent him out to get some water."

Daryl nodded and squeezed through the space between her chair and the fireplace. He mussed Judith's hair on his way past and she looked up, her brow furrowing.

"Why'd you did that?" She huffed, turning the pencil on its rubber end to erase something. "You mustarded it up…"

Beth snorted and he looked to her. "Mustarded… is a new word that we are using instead of f-u-c-k-e-d." She spelled the word quickly, casting a glance in Judith's direction. The little girl kept her focus on her paper.

He shrugged and turned back to the kitchen to retrieve a glass and some water. "Whatever," he muttered. "If y'all think bullshit made up words are better than real ones that's fine by me." Pulling a chair out, he took a seat next to Judith.

"Done!" She announced, holding her paper up proudly. "Daryl, I'm doin' school."

"Real good school- learnin' fake words," he grumbled, ignoring Beth's warning look that couldn't make a fly piss itself. Suddenly bony knees were digging into his thighs as Judith climbed onto his lap and looped her arms around his shoulders.

She leaned in close enough that they were almost nose to nose before she giggled. "Wanna see what I draw'ed?"

"Drawin' ain't school," he leaned back in his seat. "But alright."

Judith pulled her arms back and settled against the table. She presented him with a picture and he squinted at the circles with sticks protruding from them in various places. They were clearly people, though fairly rudimentary and simplistic ones.

"That's good," he glanced at Beth, torn between embarrassment and wanting to praise the girl's efforts. Often, he felt like a sore thumb in the group- he wasn't one to lose his panties over drawings or whatever else Judith learned during her days spent with Beth. "That's real nice."

She smiled at his praise as though he had presented her with the moon and pushed the paper to his chest so she could point at it. Pulling his chin back he peered at it upside down as she began to explain.

"That there is me n' you!" she pointed to the large and small figures whose hands were joined together by a small scribble. "And Beth and Carl… and that there is their baby who ain't born'ed yet."

The figure had a distinct smaller one inside it. Next she pointed out the last three who represented Maggie, Glenn, and Ben.

The last figure stood next to the drawn Judith and her finger lingered on it. "I forgotted!" She exclaimed and snatched her pencil again. Keeping the paper in place she drew a final line and ended it with a jumbled knot of circles. "That there is my daddy," she finished, showing him where she had joined Rick's hand with hers, too.

"That's real good, Judith," Daryl took the drawing and turned it around to look at it again. Across the top she had carefully written the words My Family with a backwards 'F' and an 'i' that had a dot large enough to be a fingerprint.

"You could help me putted it up?" she asked, sliding off his lap. She ducked and crawled under the table then over to her hammock where she waited patiently for him, her eyes trained on his face.

Clearing his throat he got to his feet and picked up the roll of duct tape that had been left on the hearth. Judith kneeled on her hammock and held the picture in place, lined up carefully next to the ones that he had recovered from Hershel's house months before. He tore a strip of tape away from the roll and ducked his head under to secure it in place.

Judith clapped her hands then wrapped her arms around his neck. She laid her cheek on his shoulder before a giggle escaped her seconds later.

"What?" Daryl asked, pulling back to look at her.

"We's gonna go on a huntin' trip?" she asked, her eyes flicking to his crossbow. "I could shoot it?"

Sighing he patted her cheek and turned to leave. "Fine, but you gotta collect the arrow when ya miss."

Judith turned her chin indignantly. "I ain't gonna miss," she insisted, slipping off the hammock to crouch down beside the crossbow, her fingers reaching out to touch the green and red feathers, her face delighted. "I could shoot like as good as you."

"Dream on there," Daryl tugged her braid as he passed her to sit at the table with Beth again. "Ain't nobody can shoot as good as me."

Judith didn't answer him as she sat on the floor cross-legged and pulled the large weapon onto her lap. She ran her fingers over the taught string, her blue eyes squinting thoughtfully. "Wait 'til I gotted older," she whispered, looking up at him from underneath her bangs. "I'm'a gonna be a good shooter jus' like you."

XXXX

Thank you for reading. This story has a prequel titled, "The Beginning With You". You can find it on my profile.


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